


No homo bro

by Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Denial, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Grinding, Heavy Petting, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, Slice of Life, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 05:38:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21113576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves/pseuds/Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves
Summary: Scrapper and Mix have been friends for a LONG time. After living with your bro on a house on an island, feelings were BOUND to happen. An unpopular ship to most, gets a little limelight.





	1. The bet.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I've been in a rut lately, so i decided to take a break from stuff like bug bites, to do something fun. I really hope you guys like it! (Please note, this isn't as long or as moving as my other fics. This is just dumb, fun bros being straight)

You know, there's a lot to life that's good, and a lot that's bad. Some good things? A big barrel of oil (the good kind, nothing with that filler junk), a tall, sturdy building, and a sweet little ride with tiny tailpipes. Some bad things? crude oil, a faulty blueprint, and when said cute little rides don't give you the light of day. This was why Mix and Scrapper were currently under a highway, gulping oil that WAS reserved for nearby machines. Were they a bit down because they got dissed yet again? Yep. Scrapper huffed.

"Aye Mix?"

"Yeah?"

"It ain't us, right?"

"Course it ain't us! We're catches, Scrapper. We just ain't appreciated, is all."

Despite how confidently he patted his own chest, Scrapper wasn't cheered up. He was happy, overall, but lately, something was just...amiss.

"Hey Mix?"

"What?"

"Ya think we can just...go back home? I ain't in the mood to try again."

"Ah, why not? Monday night, not a whole lot of 'em prowlin' around. Finish up ya oil and I'll lead the way."

"Thanks Mix."

The fact that Mixie was so complaint helped, if only a little. They clinked their barrels together, and finished up in a gulp or two. Next thing they knew, they were on the highway, driving off to the nearby pier. Mixie got on their makeshift boat first, helping Scrapper on board. Using his drill hand, Scrapper was able to push them forward, towards home.  
For those of you confused, allow your fellow narrator to explain. You see, a little bit after Scrapper joined Sari's B team, he stumbled across Mixie. Mixie apparently didn't remember how he got there, onto dinobot island, but he knew he was glad Dirtboss was out of their circuits. Time eventually took its course, and they built a home on Dinobot island. The autobots helped with materials, while they built themselves a decent house. Nothing much, just big enough for the two of them, a basement and an attic, a kitchen, a living room, a washroom, and a bedroom. They wanted to make a cellar, but the autobots were pretty against it, for whatever reason.

"Aye, Scrapper, slow it down, we're almost there."

"Gotcha."

Now their home, on dinobot island, was big enough for Scrapper, Mixie, and Snarl.

"Snarl, baby! Daddy's home!!"

Snarl was on the shoreline, kicking up sand in his excitement. He wouldn't go into the water, as he hated getting wet, but he'd come as close as he could. Scrapper pulled his hand out, tied their boat to their little doc, and was pounced on the second his pedes hit land, being showered in waves of Snarl's kisses.

"Aye aye aye!! Say it don't spray it!!"

He patted both of his cheeks, finally getting Snarl to knock it off, but not before coating his body in dinobot slobber. Oh well, he needed to get a good wash anyway. He got up once Snarl backed up, and Scrapper leapt up, getting a firm seat on his back, and pointing towards the house.

"High ho Snarl, awa-"

He didn't even finish his sentence when Snarl bucked him off, leaving him face first in the sand. Mixie rolled his optics, before lifting his dumbaft of a bro out of his own stupidity. Scrapper, covered in sand like rust on the bottom of a boat, pointed at Snarl, who was clearly indifferent about the anger towards him.

"You know what, imma get a cat instead of you. Then how you gonna feel?"

Snarl responded with a big, open mouth yawn, before trudging up the steps leading up to the house. Mixie chuckled and patted Scrapper's back.

"Aye, don't be too salty about it bro."

"I hate you."

Scrapper grumbled as he wiped at the sand at his face, but thanks to Snarl's slobber, only managed to spread it onto his forearm. Mixie grinned as he beat him to their front door, unlocking it and opening up for Scrapper.

"Hey, you go get cleaned up, I'll pop us open a few oil cans."

"Toss one at Snarl while you're at it."

He grumbled, walking inside and making a beeline to the washroom. It wasn't like a human bathroom, more like one big shower room, plenty of space to transform. Scrapper locked the door behind him, and Mixie held a can outside of the window above the sink, amused as Snarl snuck his head in, and grabbed the can, dashing off to primus knows where on the island in his excitement. No wonder he ended up being the first of their pets. He cracked open a can, and took a swig, turning on the little TV he had plugged in. Yeah their house was pretty old fashioned for robots with sparks, but really, they didn't need anything more. He turned it on to the sports channel, huffing. Why did the red wings continue to just SUCK? Making the rest of detroit look bad, honestly. He rolled his optics as they lost their chance to score, again, before finishing off his can, and slipping his apron on.

"Friggin' bum pickings this year."

Mixie pulled his dough out of the fridge, and toyed with it in his hands, letting it loosen. Prime and his team wouldn't let them roam free unless they found a 'creative outlet'. Something about keeping them busy. Turns out, Mixie kinda liked this thing called 'baking'. And thanks to Ratchet's fem, Arcee, he picked up a recipe for asphalt chip cookies. It wasn't exactly a manly activity, but long as no one SAW him do it, what was the harm? Honestly whatever made Scrapper stop sulking. The mech was pretty distracted from their routine lately, such as helping with fixing things around the city (which how the autobots kept breaking slag, was a LOT of fixing), chasing down tail, and drinking. As Mixie rolled the dough into little balls, he couldn't help but worry. Just a little. Scrapper and him were usually on the same pace.

"This don't fix that mech, my fists definitely will."

Sometimes Scrapper just needed to be a bit roughed up. He shoved the tray in the oven, and set the timer, putting it on the counter. He leaned against the counter, still watching the little screen. Team still sucked. Thankfully the cookies didn't take too long, because it was painful, watching his team fail, like they didn't even know what hockey WAS. He pulled them out of the oven, and set them on the counter. He heard a whining like sound, and peered over to the sink window. A sulky looking Grimlock.

"Hey buddy. What's up?"

"Grimlock smelled cookies. Grimlock want one."

Grimlock wasn't as tame as Snarl, being smarter than the rest of his trio (though that wasn't by much), despite how much Scrapper was trying. If Scrapper had it his way, all of them would be his little pet friends. Grimlock wasn't for that, but he did sneak by when Mixie was baking. Him and Grimlock were sort of buddies, in a way.

"Alright alright, I got ya covered. Let me load these up first."

He dumped the cookies onto a tray, loaded it full of dough, and put them in the oven. He took a cookie, and tossed it, with Grimlock catching it perfectly, much to his delight. Once swallowed, he gave another whine.

"Alright. One more. Then get outta here, ya letting the cold in."

After giving him another, he pushed at his snout, forcing him back outside, and closed the window. Just in time to hear the washrooms door open, with Scrapper walking out, towel at his neck. He looked a lot better, much more relaxed. He joined Mixie in the kitchen, wiping his forehead with the towel.

"Makin' those cookies again?"

"I ain't makin slag. I bought em'"

"That why ya wearin' the apron?"

"Maybe I just like it, lay off."

Scrapper definitely liked it. It was made just for him, by Arcee. Pink apron, covered in plenty of pink hearts. Looked nice on him. He plucked a cookie from the tray, raising a brow at Scrapper.

"So, you ain't makin' cookies. Right now?"

"No. Not makin' nothin'"

Just then, the oven dinged, causing Scrapper to smirk. Mixie didn't move, despite the inner panic he was getting. He hated letting his stuff burn, but he hated Scrapper seeing him bake even more. They stared at each other for a few more klicks, before Scrapper granted him mercy, going to the fridge to grab some oil. He didn't see him do so, but he heard Mixie yank the tray out, plopping them on the counter.

"Thank Primus they ain't burnt…"

"What isn't burnt? Thought you weren't makin' nothin'"

Scrapper looked at him as he closed the fridge door, and Mixie looked back, scowling like a bulldog.

"I'm gonna bop ya. In the nads. When you least friggin expect it."

"Aw Mixie, come on!"

He held the cookie in his mouth, leaned his hands against the counter, essentially pinning Mixie between him and the tabletop.

"You gonna keep poutin' like that all night?"

"And? What if I do?"

Mixie yanked the cookie from his mouth, shoving it in his own. He didn't really want it, he just didn't want Scrapper to have it anymore. Scrapper was going to tease him further, before Mixie punched him in the nads, albeit verbally.

"So why were ya actin' up so much?"

"Uh...how ya mean?"

"Ya kept starin' off into space. And ya didn't get excited over that red sports car like ya usually do. Didn't even honk at em."

"Oh. That. Well...Mixie I've been thinkin'"

"Seriously? Congrats."

"No Mixie, really."

Scrapper opened his mouth to continue, but he felt himself frozen. Here he was, fresh out of a hot shower, in his kitchen, with Mix right in front of him. He was scowling still, nibbling at his cookie, waiting. How do you say this? Mixie was his bro. Someone he cared about. Someone he lived with. He shared a berth, a home, a life with this mech. They were best friends. But lately, something about that status...was weird to him.

"Uh? Yo, Scrapper? Ya gonna say somethin' or stare at me like I got somethin' on my face?"

"Oh uh...sorry. I just...dunno how to uh…"

He hesitated for a minute, but when he counted to three, he forced himself to say something. 

"I, didn't like going out to chase after little red cars."

"Ah Scraps, I'm telling ya, it's nothing on you or me-"

"Mix. I haven't been...interested in this for a long time. I..kinda have someone specific that I want. I don't look at 'em anymore."

Mixie looked confused for a moment, as if he didn't understand the concept, before he chuckled, slapping Scrapper on his chest.

"Ha! So THAT'S been grindin' ya gears! Well no wonder! Who's the little fem? Oh wait, is it that Slipstream? You ain't ugly Scrappy, but a SEEKER? Big Gray has chances with 'em, not you."

"It's NOT a seeker, first of all. Second, ow. Third, It's...someone we both know."

"Someone we know?"

"Yeah. Someone I REALLY care about. Someone who...I really wanna….you know."

"Pffft!! I'd call ya a pervert, but I'm in the same boat. My advice? Go for it. Gals are LUCKY to have us. You tell 'em EXACTLY how it is, they'll practically fling themselves at ya."

Scrapper knew they weren't on the same side of the manhole cover, but for just a moment, the idea of Mix thinking so highly of him, gave him enough courage to finally come out with it. No more stalling. In fact, he was going to SHOW him exactly what he meant. He held onto the side of Mixie's face, and pressed his lips against his. There wasn't any resistance. There wasn't any enthusiasm either. Mixie just...stood there. Scrapper pulled away, suddenly feeling guilty for liking what he just did. Mixie was slack jawed, hands in front of him, as if to keep him away.

"What."

"Oh no."

"What in."

"Oh no I fragged up."

"The name of sweet primus's aft."

"Mixie please-"

"Was THAT?!"

"M-Mixie, let me explain!"

He was going to, before Mixie gave him a firm smack to his jaw, making him swear under his breath. Mixie jabbed his finger into the others chest, firm enough to scratch his damn paint. It was really tough love, when it came to his bro. Assuming he was still his bro after this complete screw up.

"Did you just KISS me?"

"...yeah."

"YOU. Kissed ME?!"

"Primus sake Mixie don't make me-"

"Zip ya lip or I'm breakin' ya hip. You. Don't do THAT. To ME. I'M the one who makes the choices in this damn house. So I should be kissin' YOUR dumbaft!"

"You...what?"

That wasn't the reaction he was expecting. The freak out, sure, but definitely not that last part.

"You friggin heard me. I said you don't make the moves here! Anyone gonna pullin' this slag, is ME!"

Scrapper was at a loss. Mixie didn't look angry, merely mildly offended. Scrapper pointed at himself, brow raised.

"You...you're saying YOU can kiss me?"

"EXACTLY."

Mixie stared him down for what felt like a while, with Scrapper completely unaware of how to approach this. He had just kissed Mixie, and Mixie wasn't even angry. He was just...staring. Scrapper, honestly confused here, scratched his helm.

"So...are you gonna-"

"Kiss ya? Ya damn fraggin' right I am!"

Mixie raised his voice, as if he had just challenged his bro to a brawl, before grabbing his shoulders, and practically yanking him down to his height, smothering his lips with his own. Scrapper would've pulled away, because this was new and foreign, but Mixie didn't let him. Not from force, but from the fact that his hands roamed, one carefully rubbing his shoulder, the other slowly sliding down to Scrappers side, servos running carefully against his own metal. Mixie could let him go, and Scrapper could still be stuck right here, wanting more. Scrapper eased himself, and carefully held the others face, one hand holding firmly to his cheek, the other on the back of his helm, practically pushing him towards him. Scrapper groaned softly, mind getting foggy from the surprisingly soft petting, and Mixie's touch spreading as far as they could.

Scrapper didn't want to admit it, but...well he got a little greedy. He managed to push himself in between the others legs, allowing him to slowly grind against the others crotch plate. Mixie groaned against his lips, his fingers only pulled and pleaded for more contact. Scrapper shouldn't be liking this. Shouldn't be liking how the slow roll of his hips into the others felt. Mixie was equally as guilty, given that his hand was at his front, slowly roaming down to his-

"Are they gonna do it?"

They pulled their lips away, to look at the sudden voice. It was Bumblebee. Him, and the rest of team prime, the fleshie included. Arcee had her hand covering Bumblebee's optics, Optimus's cheeks were flushed in humiliation, Bulkhead looked slack jawed, Sari was fighting back giggles, and Ratchet just didn't care. Scrapper and Mix looked at each other, and upon realizing they were still in an embrace, pulled away quickly, as if the other was toxic. Scrapper rubbed the back of his helm, cheeks aflame.

"Uh, hey guys! Sorry we uh...kinda forgot you were comin' over."

Bumblebee pulled Arcee's hand down, brow raised.

"I didn't know you guys were drilling each other."

Mixie, the usually quick tempered of the two, furrowed his brow, pointing a finger in Bumblebee, as if he just offended him.

"Aye, we AIN'T doin' NOTHIN' like that."

Optimus chimed in, hoping they could get at least five minutes before being kicked out of someone's house. For once.

"Easy, easy. You two were just…"

He trailed off, not really knowing where to go from here. Prowl offered help, much to his relief.

"Being bros."

"Yes! That! Thank you Prowl. You two were JUST being bros. We understand. Nothing gay about that, right Bumblebee?"

Bumblebee pointed at Mixie, a slag eating smile on his face.

"I WOULD'VE bought that...if the mech wasn't wearing an apron."

"Aye. You callin' me gay, pipsquak?"

"I sure as helix ain't calling you straight."

"THAT'S IT!!"

It took a combined effort from Scrapper and Bulkhead to tear Mixie away. Ratchet smacked Bumblebee on the back of his helm, before sighing.

"Back in my day, you just rear ended a mech and ain't nothing weird about it. This generation."

Scrapper held his hands out in defense.

"Hey! We AIN'T like that!"

Arcee stood in the middle of the room, hands in the air. Arcee hadn't been on the team for very long, but she had already established her role as everyone's carrier.

"Now now. Let's all relax. We aren't judging you. We aren't even saying its a bad thing. What we're saying is, keep your front door locked from now on."

She patted them both on their shoulders, and made her way to their kitchen.

"Come along now, I made some chrome alloy pie! Hurry now before it gets cold."

Scrapper and Mixie shared a look as everyone else was herded into the kitchen. This was gonna be a very awkward dinner.

\-----------  
Team Prime left after a few hours or so. Minus Bumblebee and Bulkhead, the conversation of what happened was pretty much dropped at the table (Bumblebee was more in a teasing manner while Bulkhead was clearly eager to know if his best buddies were dating). Now Scrapper and Mix were in their bedroom, laying at their respective sides, facing away from each other. There was silence. Scrapper didn't even know where to begin. Even now, as he touched his lips obsessively, he could still feel Mixie, right there, holding him, groaning against him. He had a connection with Mixie, and knew things about him that other bots would never know. Like how to tell when he was awake, and how he was equally as confused.

"Mixie?"

"What?"

"That wasn't.. weird, right?"

Mixie turned around to face him, shaking his helm.

"Hell no! It was only weird when the autobums made it weird! You're my bro. It's not weird."

"Right? I was thinking that exact same thing!"

Scrapper sat up a bit, relieved that Mixie wasn't too put off by tonights events. 

"Ain't nothin' weird about two bros, just kissin' it up."

Mixie propped himself up onto his elbow, nodding in agreement.

"Exactly. We could kiss a hundred times, wouldn't be weird."

"Pfft. ONLY a hundred?"

Mixie sat up fully, and leaned into Scrappers space, pointing at him.

"Whatcha tryin' to say? Don't beat the bush, say it like a grown aft mech."

Scrapper folded his arms across his chest, and looked away from him, acting smug. 

"Nothin'. It just sounds like you can ONLY handle a hundred. Just sayin'"

He peered over again, and had to fight back laughter. Mixie's brows were furrowed, his fists were clenched, and steam was seeping from his vents. Mixie never let anyone try to prove he couldn't do something. 

"Oh. OH. I can do more than a hundred pal! Try a thousand!"

"Oh yeah?!"

Scrapper raised his voice this time, taking his turn to do some finger pointing.

"Ya can't do a thousand. I'd bet on it."

"Oh yeah?! Let's do a million then!"

"Oh you can totally do that."

Mixie pushed aside the sheets, and fixed himself on his knees. He was pumped, and ready to just throttle this fragger.

"Aight, it's a friggin BET! I can so reach a million! I win, you do what I say!"

"And if I win, like I know I'm gonna, YOU gotta do chores for a week!"

"Oh it is ON!"

"LET'S GO!"

"LET'S DO IT!"

They were practically yelling at each other towards the end, fists bared as if ready to just chuck each other out of the window. Mixie grabbed onto both of his shoulders, and leaned his weight forward, forcing Scrapper onto his back, and his lips on his own.

Number two.

Mixie only lasted a good second into the kiss, before pulling away, suddenly looking hesitant. 

"This...isn't gay. Right?"

"Pfft. Gay? US? We're bro's."

"I..alright."

Mixie leaned in again, seeming grateful for the closure.

Number three.

Mixie pulled away another moment later, chuckling.

"Hey. Totally no homo bro."

"No homo, Mix."

They both shared a grin, before Mixie leaned in again, this time practically sinking into the others body.

Number four. Number five. Number six.

At this rate, Mixie was gonna get to a million, and fast.

It was a bet Scrapper was VERY happy to lose.


	2. Mixing things up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bet from the day before smacked Mixie clear on the face. How does he deal with this? No clue. All he knows, is that he really likes kissin' his bro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't supposed to come for a few weeks. But for my bros birthday, i did a months worth of work in literally a day. Hope y'all like it. Especially you birthday girl! @cookienerdzzz!

You ever do something the night before, and not really understand WHY you did it? And by the morning, it takes you a bit to piece it together? That was what Mix was going through when the sun peered through his window, forcing him to wake up. His processor was foggy, and his optics were blurry for a moment. What was he doing last night? Once his optics cleared fully, he finally figured out what was the weight on his chest. Scrapper was still knocked out, with his jaw resting on Mix's chest. Scrapper and Mix shared a berth, purely for space reasons, and sometimes, Scrapper would just end up falling asleep on him, so this wasn't weird.  
What WAS weird, was the fact that Scrapper had his arms wrapped around his neck. His buddy was a cuddler, but this was new. He was thinking about exactly WHY he was doing that, then he recalled exactly what happened last night. He took a klik. The bet. Two kliks. The yelling. Three kliks. A million. By the fourth klik, Mix reacted like a mature, completely level headed adult. By completely pushing Scrapper off the berth, screaming like bloody murder, and jumping off the berth and holding his hands up, as if Scrapper brandished a damn knife at him. Scrapper got up from the floor, looking around wildly, thinking there was an intruder.

"What the hell?! What's wrong?!"

"You KISSED me last night!!"

Scrapper looked at him as if he was confused. How was he NOT freaking out?! Did he think he was lying? Scrapper threw his hands to his sides.

"And?!"

"And?! Ya kissed me!!!"

"Yes! We did! Glad ya don't got friggin' amnesia!!"

"Why are you NOT freaking out?!"

"Probably because YOU kissed me too?!"

Mixer really didn't understand why he was the only one making a show of this, but his processor was starting to hurt.

"You know what, imma...go. Downstairs. To the kitchen, which we have."

Scrapper gawked at him as if he was nuts, and Mix walked down the stairs quickly, nearly tripping, before he made it to the counter, leaning against it and holding his head in his hands. What the FRAG? They were both aware that they kissed each other, and only HE was freaking out? He didn't know how long he was sitting there, but eventually Scrapper joined him, going into the fridge for a drink.

"Mixie?"

"Primus, what?"

He flinched a little, not really liking how Mixie snapped at him. He set his drink down on the counter, and got up behind him, placing his hands on his shoulder.

"You feelin' alright enough to get to work? I gotta tend to the dinos, but I can go with you if you want."

Team Prime weren't the only bots willing to help the fleshies. Monday through Thursday (they fought hard against working on a friday), they helped humans with construction and repairs around the city. Mondays they went together to work, Tuesday was Mix, Wednesday was Scrapper, and Thursday was both of them again. They USED to just go together all the time, but Snarl didn't like being alone for very long, hence the schedule. Mix wanted to push Scrapper off of him, still feeling a little weirded out about the whole kissing thing, when Scrapper started to dig his thumbs into his shoulders.  
That was so not fair. Scrapper knew EXACTLY what he was doing, going in little circles like that, and from his chuckle, he was well aware. Mix had to take a moment before he responded.

"Nah. I'm...I'm good. I can go. Snarl needs ya here anyway."

Speaking of Snarl, he was by the kitchen window, kicking up dirt in his excitement. Always ready to see his dads off before work. Scrapper patted Mix's shoulders, and went back to his drink.

"Then hop in the shower. Don't want ya to be late."

Mix usually didn't want to bathe before leaving (what's the point, if Scrapper is just gonna make him shower again after work?), but he figured it'd help clear his processor. He nodded, and went for the showers, locking the door behind him. A cybertronian washroom was pretty different from a fleshies, just a big space with plenty of shower heads, mainly to help at all sides. He turned on the water, waited for it to get a nice temperature, and started using the cleaning solvent Arcee got for them. Apparently the one they had been using previously wasn't good enough.  
And Mix totally wasn't filling his brain with useless commentary just so he could avoid thinking about the whole kiss thing. What was with him? Wasn't there something WRONG with the fact that they kissed? Was he wrong for freaking out about this? He shook his helm, rubbing his soapy hands over his frame. Him? Wrong? Pfft. He was the head honcho around here, no way he was wrong. There WAS something off about this. About what they were doing. But what WAS it? Mix groaned, not exactly knowing, or knowing how he could know. About what he didn't know.

"The one day I AIN'T hungover, and my processor still hurts."

And he was talking to himself. Just great. He ran his hands across his face, particularly over his lips. He was starting to remember the kisses from last night, and..he was almost embarrassed to say that he kinda liked how it felt. Was that..weird? Did that...make him g-

"Nope."

He shook his helm wildly, in complete refusal. He was NOT gay. Not a chance. He washed the suds off of himself, then turned off the water, grabbing a towel on the way out. Upon making his way to the kitchen, he realized he had a problem. See, Snarl was there, head through the window, getting smooched up by Scrapper. The problem? Mix found himself wanting exactly what the dinobot was getting. He walked to the fridge, grabbing a drink. The sound made Scrapper look in his direction, still petting Snarl.

"Hey. You feel better?"

"Uh...yeah. Snarl's needy today, huh?"

"Ha, ya tellin' me. Snarl baby, wait outside for daddy, 'kay? I just gotta help Mixie get ready for work."

Snarl hesitated, whining, but obeyed regardless, choosing to go for a run. Scrapper lightly shook his head, and turned to look at Mix, arms folded.

"You look a lot better. You uh...you good?"

"Yeah. I'm good."

Mix felt awkward. Scrapper was standing there, as if expecting something, but Mix...just didn't know what to give him. Scrapper seemed to take the hint, and just gave Mixie a can of fuel, clunking his own against his.

"Good. You didn't look too hot this morning. Mainly when you pushed me off."

"Uh...yeah. Kinda lost it there."

That was when Scrapper tested him. In reality, Scrapper was merely just kidding, but for one reason or another, Mix took it seriously. 

"Ah ya did. Take it ya scared to lose the bet, huh?"

"...you callin' me chicken?"

Scrapper stood up a bit straighter upon Mix's brow furrowing, and his finger pointed in his direction.

"Because if ya callin' me chicken, imma make you regret callin' me that."

"Mixie I was just-"

Twenty.

Scrapper found himself at a loss as Mixie grabbed him by his chest piece, and yanked him into another kiss. When he went to hold his face, to eagerly return the affection, Mixie pulled away, still holding onto the other's metal. They both looked at each other in confusion, with Mixie's holding a dash of unease. Was he supposed to keep going? He LIKED what he just did, and clearly Scrapper liked it too, given how he was still slightly hunched over, making it more than easy enough for Mixie to do it again. So...why didn't he? He merely cleared his vocal processor, and lightly shoved Scrapper away from him. Not too harshly, just enough to give him space.

"I uh...I'll be back later tonight. Ya gonna fix that creaky board on the porch, right?"

"Uh...yeah. I got it."

"Good. Good."

There was something awkward about this, but Mixie didn't have any idea how to fix it. He sort of just picked up his can, and walked right out the door. The entire boat ride back to the city was full of him just mumbling and complaining.

"Why the FRAG was it weird? Why did I do that? What the HELL is happening?!"

He rubbed his helm, suddenly feeling circuits spark into a headache. He looked at his reflection in the water once he tied his boat back up to the docs, and glared at himself. 

"Look. Ya gonna stop being a damn wuss. Ya gonna do ya damn work, and ya gonna figure this slag out when ya get back home. Ya got this. Ya-"

"How often do you talk to yourself?"

He quickly turned around to see Optimus and Bulkhead there, with Bulkhead lightly looking concerned. Mix lightly shook his helm.

"I was just...forget it. Anyway, I heard ya guys did a little damage. Again. What was it this time?"

Optimus sighed. He hated having these two fix their mistakes, but it was putting them to good use, keeping them out of trouble, and helping the city while his team got to handle the bad guys. He scooted to the side, to show the destroyed highway bridge, a dented building, a completely busted fire hydrant, and a number of knocked over lamp posts. Not to mention who knows how many busted service bots. Bulkhead shrunk a little, rubbing the back of his helm.

"Starscream clones decided to have a little party."

"And uh...pot holes by the city council. A lot of them. Sorry, my bad."

Mix took a minute to sigh, before lightly shaking his helm.

"Did ya at LEAST catch one of 'em?"

"Prowl did. For a minute, until Skywarp broke him back out."

"...I'm already tired. Let's get to work boys."

\-----------  
"Come now Scrapper, I really think you're reading too much into this."

Arcee lightly pouted as Scrapper gave her a cup of tea. Arcee, Ratchet, Bumblebee, and Sari were over, mainly upon Arcee's insistence. She was worried about them both ever since yesterday, and from what Scrapper just explained to her, she had every reason for concern. Scrapper shrugged as he gave Ratchet a drink as well.

"You think so? I just. I keep thinkin' it's my fault. Like am I not...right? Am I doin' somethin' wrong?"

"Oh no no no, Scrapper of course not!"

She lightly patted his hand in comfort, spark absolutely melting for the poor boy.

"I'm sure there's a reason why he's so awkward about this. I'm not entirely sure WHAT exactly, but-"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Bumblebee spoke from the living room. He was on the floor with Sari, petting Snarl on his belly. Everyone looked at him expectantly, and he rolled his optics.

"Duh! It's gay to LET someone kiss you. YOU do the kissing and it's totally straight."

Sari gawked at him, aghast at the sheer stupidity.

"You...can't be serious."

Ratchet opened his mouth to object, but after taking a look at Scrapper, nodded.

"Actually...yeah. I can see that."

Sari cocked her head to the side, closing Snarl's drooling mouth.

"So...it's a no homo bro situation."

Bumblebee grinned, nodding.

"Yeah pretty much. I mean, same mech tried to throw some fists the second I questioned his sexuality, doesn't surprise me that he has an issue here."

Scrapper stepped away from the counter, and raised a brow.

"Well you did call him gay. We ain't gay."

Even Snarl stared at him as he said this, with everyone not stepping on that land mine. Arcee went on as if he didn't say anything, not wanting to break the news to him. 

"Regardless, Scrapper, he might have a point. Mixie might just have an issue with how he feels. If you want my advice, let him go at his own pace."

Scrapper scowled.

"So...it's NOT a me issue?"

And that set Arcee off. She got up from her seat and walked into the kitchen, hands at Scrappers cheeks. 

"Scrapper, no, sweetspark, there's no such thing as a you issue. You two are growing and learning! And you're TALKING about it! You're doing what you can, and that's so important!"

"...really?"

"Of course! You poor thing!"

She patted his cheek, and practically beamed when Scrapper had a smile formed on his face.

"There we go! There's the handsome smile of yours! And I'll tell you what, I'll have Bulkhead and Optimus talk a bit to Mix, see where he's at."

"...thanks Arcee."

"Oh of course. I want the best for you boys!"

She looked past him to the window, chuckling as Swoop was trying to reach for the leftover pie on the counter. She chuckled, and brought it to him, petting his nose as he ate along happily.

"He DOES like you, Scrapper. I can see it all over his face."

Scrapper felt heat rise to his face, and he avoided optic contact. He knew Mix was his bro, but did he actually like him...in THAT way? Something about Arcee's soft smile made him think it was actually possible. Then Ratchet took a sip from his mug, and spoke.

"You two were LITERALLY fondling each other on the kitchen counter. No slag you like each other. The fact that we're contemplating this is giving me a processor ache."

"Ratchey."

She warned, giving him a light scowl. She gave Swoop a small pat, and he was on his way.

"They're figuring things out. Life is confusing like that, and there's no shame in that. Let's not forget, you struggled to come to terms with YOUR feelings."

Ratchet raised a brow at her grin, and scoffed, avoiding optic contact by opening his data pad, looking at just about anything, so long as he didn't meet that look. She walked back outside, hands at his shoulders, and her face right next to his.

"Even after I came back to join the team, you were still so uncertain. You tried the little pick up lines, you tried to play it 'cool', tried to get everyone but me out of the room...and yet, you still don't admit you love me when other optics fall on you."

Ratchet glanced at her for a moment, but huffed. The color on his cheeks betrayed the tone he was trying to convey.

"Me? Love ya? Bah. Need to check on that processor of yours, think ya wiring is all crossed."

"Uh huh. And when we get back to base, you can check all you want. Till then,"

She kissed the side of his helm, and started to rub at his shoulders. She could tell his poor body was aching.

"Deal with the obvious."

Something about his optic roll only amused her, and as she worked the kinks out of his shoulders, she smiled at Scrapper.

"You see, I know EXACTLY what situation you're in. The only difference? I'm too old to be in denial of my feelings. You two have all the time in the world to sort this out."

Scrapper couldn't feel more confident. Looking at these two, so content and relaxed with one another made him realize that they were too much alike. And for a second, he thought, what if. What if they'd be like that someday?

\---------

Optimus's antenna perked up as he received Ratchet's message. He was in the middle of fixing the potholes with Mix and Bulkhead, not saying much as those two chatted away. Optimus could've handled the new task better, but he really didn't know how. As he smoothed over the cement, he just came out with it.

"So. How's Scrapper?"

They both looked at him, brow raised. Mix was having a decent conversation with Bulkhead, as his green buddy just got into sports, when Prime decided to change the topic entirely. Which was weird, given that Prime was usually the one to tell them to keep conversation to a minimum for the sake of work. He shrugged as he filled up the next pothole, waiting for the prime to smooth it over, and Bulkhead to paint over it soon after.

"He's doin' fine. Why ya wanna know?"

"Just...wondering. You know. About...yesterday."

"And here we go."

Mix rolled his optics, turning around and hoping to avoid this conversation. Unfortunately, Bulkhead, always wanting the latest details about them both, jumped in.

"We were just wondering, Mixie! I mean that was...kinda new. Or was it?"

Mix turned as Bulkhead put a hand on his shoulder.

"What are ya sayin'?"

"I'm just...you know. Have you two been doing this for long?"

Mix shrugged his hand off with a groan.

"No. It was a one time thing."

"Well have you THOUGHT about it before?"

Mixie was about to fill up the next hole, when he froze. That was...a question. Honest answer? Yeah, he had. But they haven't gotten tail in forever, it was bound to happen. Mixie shook his helm.

"Nah. Dunno why you guys are askin'. Me and Scrapper like 'em small. Little tailpipes."

"But, what was-"

"Look, Prime. Knock it off before I knock YOU out. Wasn't NOTHIN' like that. Now smooth out them pot holes."

Mixie gave him a look to drop it, and Optimus took a step back, hands up in surrender.

"Alright. I'll drop it. Was a one time thing. I get it."

Bulkhead however, didn't know when to quit. He also took an approach that honestly, Optimus was impressed with. As he added another stretch of yellow to the road, he shrugged.

"I get it. I mean, it's Scrapper. Like he's worth anything serious."

Prime was half expecting Mixie to throw some fists, given the look he gave Bulkhead. 

"What...what was that?"

"Hmm? Oh nothin', I'm just saying. It's Scrapper, course he's only an occasional fragger. No one could actually LIKE LIKE him, we were pretty stupid to think it was something serious."

Mixie huffed, pointing at Bulkhead. 

"You ain't serious. You can't say stuff like that about Scrapper."

"Don't hear you proving me wrong."

"Oh, ya want a list?"

"Oh SURE Mixmaster,"

He started, painting another yellow line to the road. Mixie was glaring at him now, clearly not liking Bulkhead talking slag about Scrapper, who wasn't even here to defend himself. It only got worse as Bulkhead went on.

"Sure you can find a list of reasons why ANYONE would like Scrapper like that. You come up with FIVE reasons I'll buy you some oil. Otherwise, I got my doubts."

"ONLY five? You better be serious about that damn oil Bulkhead."

"Serious as a spark attack. That's how sure I am."

"Well, you're wrong,"

Mixie growled as he looked away from him, filling up another pothole.

"Imma give you a damn list. There's PLENTY of reasons to like Scraps."

Mixie grumbled angrily, trying to keep himself from pounding some dents into Bulkhead. It was one thing insulting him to his face. But here? When he couldn't defend himself? That was low.

"He's nice. Like, seriously nice. If it moves, he's there taking care of it."

One particular incident that came to mind, was when Scrapper realized how many birds visited the island. The dozens upon dozens of handmade birdhouses around their place was all HIS doing.

"He's handy around the house, fixing everything when Primus knows I really don't want to. But even though he does most of the work, he sorta makes you feel like YOU'RE the important one?"

Mixie stopped for a moment to think. He remembered Scrapper doing chores all day, painting the house, fixing the plumbing, tending to the plants, feeding the dinos, and yet, just because Mixie fixed the tv, Scrapper felt like he had to tell him just how hard he worked around the house.

"And he's got like, this smile. It's like, when he smiles, it kinda makes you feel good? And his laugh? His laugh is so annoying, but like in a cute way? And he can't even help just being happy? He could be having the worst day, but at the end of the day, he's so ready to laugh with you? He's stupidly optimistic. And he's annoying in the best way possible, let me tell ya."

He had put his mixer away, now using his hands to help give more of the list. That oil was his.

"He's CONSTANTLY wanting to give whatever love he's got in that dumb spark chamber of his? I can't tell you how many times he tries to HUG you? Personal space? Scrapper's never heard of 'em. He's constantly wanting to hold someone. You offer him a hug ONCE and he goes ballistic, like he won the fraggin lottery. I offered him a hug once and he literally just lifted me off the floor. And the dudes STRONG. Not as much as yours truly, but he can pick ya up like it's nothin'. I mean with hands as big as his, he puts 'em to use. And just, his body in general. A wide chassis, his little audial fins? And if you mess with 'em, he just loses it. He kinda like, shrinks? And don't even get me started on the legs, lemme tell ya about them legs, boy's got milage-"

He turned around, about to use his hands to show just how much he was talking about, when he saw the looks on their faces. Bulkhead was smug, and Optimus was smiling like he knew exactly what he was talking about. Mix's face scrunched up, and he quickly filled up the last pothole, practically growling.

"You owe me oil, Bulk."

"Worth it. I'll invite Scrapper along, maybe I'll let him know just how much-"

"You. Ain't tellin' him NOTHIN'"

Mixie pointed in his direction, Bulkhead actually taking a step back, feeling a bit threatened. Mixie huffed, before looking at Optimus. 

"Look, let's fix whatever messes are left, I'm already sick of dis."

"We just have to fix the drones downtown, then we're all done."

"Fan fraggin' tastic."

He went ahead and walked on ahead, grumbling. Bulkhead and Optimus looked at each other, Bulkhead quietly clapping his servos together.

"Boss bot. Please tell me you think this is cute too."

"It's….something. Don't think we should pester him too much though, he seems a bit sensitive about it."

"...imma make them fall in love, dammit."

"Bulkhead no-"

He tried to dissuade him from dashing after the clearly temperamental Mixmaster, but he was already dashing after him, clearly ready to play matchmaker. He wasn't ready to fix the mess that was bound to come from this. Honestly, he'd much prefer fixing potholes for a few years.

\-------------

"Yo Scraps! I'm home!"

Mixie had walked up to his door, giving a light wave as he saw Ratchet and Arcee sitting at the counter. Mix made a beeline straight for the fridge, grabbing a can of oil. Scrapper scowled as Optimus and Bulkhead. 

"What'd you do to Mix?"

"Nothing! Why do you assume we did anything?"

"Because he's grumpy! Look at him!"

Mix rolled his optics. While he appreciated that Scrapper was in tune with his feelings, he hated how he made him sound like a sparkling. He wasn't 'grumpy', he was annoyed. Big difference. He tried to move past the crowd in his kitchen, before Scrapper stopped him, holding onto his shoulders.

"Mix. Mix. Come on, look at me."

"God, can't a mech just come home and have some oil after a long day of work?"

"Not if he's gonna be wearin' that face."

Mixie kept scowling as he looked up at him, clearly not wanting Scrapper's methods of cheering him up.

"If you don't smile, imma make you."

"Aye, no,"

Mixie started, pointing at him in warning.

"You ain't doin' that while we have company over, ya aft."

"I will."

"You sure as hell ain't!"

"You sure about that?"

"Hell yeah I'm sure! Because if you do, I swear imma-"

Twenty one.

Scrapper cupped his face for this one, practically sighing into it. It only lasted a few kliks at the most, but it was enough to satisfy them both. Scrapper chuckled as he lightly patted his chest plating.

"There. You good now?"

Mixie looked up at him, before suddenly jabbing him in the interface panel, making him keel over. Mixie nodded and walked around him to the sofa, plopping down.

"Yeah, way better, thanks Scraps."

"A-always happy to help…"

Scrapper held onto the affected area for a moment, simultaneously holding onto the counter so he wouldn't fall to the floor. Arcee leaned over the counter.

"Scrapper? Dear, are you alright?"

"N-never better. This ain't new."

"Primus sake,"

Ratchet started, looking over at Mixie.

"How many times you do that to the poor guy?"

"Anytime he comes close to pullin' some homo shit."

Scrapper slowly lifted himself up, clearly taking some effort to do so.

"It happens once or twice...a day."

"Well good luck reproducing."

Ratchet commented, more or less shrugging off the light smack to his shoulder from Arcee. Scrapper, now finally gaining the ability to walk, brought whatever pie was leftover to the inhabitants of the living room.

"So how much damage did ya have to fix today?"

"Ugh, primus,"

Mix adjusted himself in his seat, ready to just go off.

"Scrapper, bro, don't even get me started on how much slag they made me do today."

Mixie wiped his face, not caring about the whipped cream smear he made on his face. While he didn't want to talk about it, already feeling exhausted just thinking about it, anything beat watching 'rules of engagement'. Damn humans. So many shows, and nothing good. People paid for cable, yet they got THIS slag? Sure they were totally stealing it, but that was besides the point.

"Had to fix a banged up highway bridge, a dented building needed realignment, a completely busted fire hydrant had to have the water shut off, THEN replaced, and a number of knocked over lamp posts. Not to mention who knows how many busted service bots needed their structures fixed. That ain't even OUR job, it's Sumdac's industries machines anyway!"

Optimus sighed, swallowing the only sweet thing about this situation. 

"Yes, but we told him we'd fix them structurally. He has other things to worry about. Though, it definitely be less to do if Bumblebee didn't just grab them to bash the seekers with."

"Hey, I thought I could like, smack off a wing or something, and they were within reach! It's a trick I've learned from the academy!"

"No it's not."

"Thanks Bulkhead. Glad you got my back."

"Anytime, little buddy."

"Regardless,"

Scrapper interrupted, sparing everyone from more of Mixie's complaints.

"You guys picked the right mech for the job, so I'm sure you guys got it done fairly easy. I mean, Mixie can do anything."

"Ya damn straight I can."

Mixie sat back into his chair, flipping through the channels, hoping SOMETHING good would come on. If he saw that Sheldon fleshie one more time, knocking on that damn door, he was gonna lose his mind. Today was too weird and exhausting for him to deal with it. Scrapper lightly patted his shoulder, and took his plate for him, putting it in the sink. Mixie left it on Firefly (trust him, it was the best thing on), before turning to them again.

"Why IS everyone in here anyway? Ya usually don't bring the whole pack over unless it's a celebration or somethin'"

"We're waiting for Prowl. With Megatron behind bars, the fact that the seekers are coming out from the shadows, don't exactly instill confidence. He's doing some investigations. We assume they have a new leader. Though, it's all assumptions at this point, but the attacks are starting to follow closer to our base, making us all a little worried."

"Ya sure it's not Big gray back at it again?"

Mixie asked, loudly slurping at his oil. Optimus leaned over from his spot on the sofa, upon Scrapper motioning for his plate.

"No. We checked with Sentinel, he's still in captivity. It could be one of his lesser hands, but we know it's not him, Starscream, or Shockwave."

Bulkhead punched his fist into his other servo, looking cross.

"I'm still thinking its Soundwave. We never did find him after his little human incident."

"That's true. We really don't-"

Optimus was suddenly cut off as he received a com call, which his audial extended to receive.

"Yes? Uh huh. Yes. No. Alright. We're on our way."

Optimus hung up, and stood from his seat.

"Alright team. Prowl just called. He did a parameter check, nothing suspicious to report. Least, he thinks it's safe until we do a full investigation in the morning. For now, we're heading out."

Everyone stood up, with Ratchet giving Mix a mock salute. 

"Good work today, fat aft."

"Thanks, rust bucket."

That was just their relationship. Arcee meanwhile, treated them as if they were her own sparklings, giving Scrapper a hug, patting his back.

"You both be good until next we see you. I left some chrome loaf in the fridge in case you boys feel peckish."

"Aw, thanks Arcee."

"Yeah, thanks. It's MINE now."

Mixie hoisted himself up to dig into the fridge, much to Scrappers amusement. Chrome loaf WAS always his favorite. 

"You guys sure the ferry comes in this late?"

"We built a ground bridge here, remember?"

"Ah, right. Me and Mix are so used to taking the boat back to the mainland."

Bulkhead carefully lifted Sari onto his shoulder, as he peered over Arcee's shoulder.

"You could use the groundbridge we made! We've tested it, it's safe!"

"Nah."

Mixie muttered, currently going to town on the loaf, right from the pan.

"Scrapper likes the boat. It's kinda our bro time. Plus he thinks Snarl stompin' around on shore waiting for us is pretty cute. Somehow."

"Hey. Snarl is precious. But yeah, I like the boat. Bridge is all yours. And uh...loaf is all Mixie's, I guess."

"Damn straight it is."

Bumblebee giggled as he plucked Sari from Bulkhead, letting her drive in his front seat.

"Ironic, ain't it? Him using 'straight'?"

Sari and Bumblebee giggled as he hit the gas, dashing off for the groundbridge. Arcee rolled her optics as she leaned over, pecking Mix and Scrapper on their helms.

"You two call me if anything."

"Does more chrome loaf count?"

Ratchet sighed as he offered his arm to her, much to her delight. Scrapper and Mix watched them as they left, and the second the door shut, Scrapper lightly whined, leaving his chin on Mix's shoulder. He raised a brow.

"What?"

"You're eating all the loaf, I want some."

"Frag off."

"Mix, please? I wanna eat SOMETHIN'"

"Then LOOK for something ya want, I'm busy."

"I want petroleum pancakes."

"Then make some."

"But...I like it when you make 'em."

"It's ten o'clock at night. I ain't makin-"

He turned to tell Scrapper to frag off, when he saw that pout. Then he heard that whimper. And saw those optics, practically on the brink of leaking. Mix groaned, setting the loaf down.

"Get me my damn apron."

"YAY!"

Crocodile tears, as always. Scrapper dashed off to get his apron, about to help Mixie put it on, when Mixie just snatched it from him, putting it on himself. Mix grumbled a few swears as he started the batter. He hated cooking in front of others, but everyone on this damn Island loved his pancakes. And even though he wouldn't admit it, he liked making them, for one good reason. Because of Scrapper. Mix heated a pan on the stove, added some grease, and ladled on the thick batter. And, as per usual, Scrapper was over his shoulder, with his arms wrapped around his frame.

"I like watchin' you make these."

"No shit."

They both shared a chuckle at that. There was a moment of silence, only the sound of sizzling, before Scrapper leaned his helm closer, kissing Mix right on his 'ear muffs', making him squirm reflectively.

"What is WITH you and the damn ear muffs?"

"I know ya like it Mix. Just keep goin'"

Mixie shook his helm, choosing not to let it bug him. Though, as he flipped the pancake, he realized he couldn't exactly help it. Scrapper would pull this on him ALL the time, but for some reason, this time, it REALLY got to him, making his face feel like it was on fire.

"I swear to primus Scrapper, if you d-don't stop, imma bop you."

"Worth it."

Scrapper kept nuzzling into him, kissing his audials again, and again, and again. Mix growled as he turned his helm, knowing that his embarrassment was the reason for the others smug grin.

"Knock. It. off."

Scrapper, despite not moving to kiss his audial again, pressed his helm against the other's. While he would gladly smooch his audials again, he found himself wanting something more. And thankfully, Mix gave him exactly that.

Twenty two.

"Primus you just want everythin', don't you? Can't even let me finish ya damn pancakes."

Twenty three.

Mixie held his face this time, sighing as he felt Scrapper sink into him. Scrapper lightly chuckled as he pulled away, but not straying very far.

"Guess I do want everythin'. Didn't know I was so greedy."

Twenty four. Twenty five.

Scrapper groaned as he felt the others hand against his lower back, pulling him closer to his own frame.

Twenty six. Twenty seven. Twenty eight.

It was Mixie's turn to groan, as Scrapper lifted his hands up, lightly running his thumbs over his audials.

Twenty nine. Thirty.

Oh primus above, this mech was going to absolutely get it. Before he could get what was coming to him however, they both stopped upon smelling the air. Mixie immediately covered the fire on the pan, suffocating it, and turning off the stove. They both looked at each other, before Mix leaned forward, jabbing Scrapper in the panel.

"You MORON! I coulda burnt the house down!"

Scrapper couldn't reply as he was hunched over, to which Mixie rolled his optics, and brought the pan to the sink, rinsing off the mess.

"Ya damn lucky you didn't ruin this pan."

Mix rolled his optics as Scrapper only responded with a high pitched cry, currently in pain.

"Don't be a little glitch, or imma make it really hurt."

Mix huffed as he started the pancakes again. After getting one onto a plate, he sighed, offering Scrapper a hand so he could stand up properly. And of course, he had that sad look on his face.

"Mix?"

"What?"

"I...sorry."

Scrapper's shoulders slumped, and Mixie didn't reply. Least, not until he had a decent stack on the plate. Once done, he turned, and grabbed onto Scrapper's chin, bringing him down to peck his lips.

Thirty one.

"Forgetaboutit, and just eat ya pancakes, ya baby."

The smile that crept onto his face was worth every bit of annoyance he brought. Even if he was the reason why the place LITERALLY almost caught on fire. Scrapper sat at the table with him, and cut his pancakes into bite sized pieces. As Mixie was about to take a swig of his drink (he always had to have SOMETHING while Scrapper was eating, so he wouldn't feel lonely), he felt something in his hand. Scrapper put his hand in his own, looking rather sheepish. Mix sighed.

"I'd punch ya in the nads, usually. But, that'd mean getting up. So imma let it slide."

Scrapper grinned as he gripped onto his hand. After taking a bite, Scrapper lightly tugged on him.

"Mixie?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. A lot. I dunno what I'd be without ya."

"Dunno where you'd be either. But, ya welcome."

Mix didn't look at his surely dopey smile, but merely held onto his hand firmly. Scrapper didn't know what he'd do without him. If only he knew how much Mixie understood those words.


	3. Role models

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scrapper is struggling to tell Mix his feelings. While Mix had seemed to be pushing the past aside, Scrapper can't help but be stuck, with no clear way out. Arcee and Ratchet do what they can to help, but team prime has their own issues.

When you look at Cybertronians and humans, you think they were so different, that they couldn't understand each other. In reality, they were so similar it was freaky. Both could get diseases, both could build buildings tall enough to pierce the heavens, and both had the need to love. It was inevitable for any sentient being, to fall in love, and it was as fate that some stick together. No one was a better example than Arcee and Ratchet. They had been coming over nearly every day for the past few months to check up on Scrapper and Mix's progress, and they only helped ignite Scrapper's want to be just like them. Scrapper brought their cups of tea and coffee from the kitchen, only to halt before he even made it to the living room.

"Oh, don't you remember this one?"

"Primus, this song is older than my bumper, yeah I remember. You remember how to do it still?"

"Oh I couldn't forget it if I tried."

Arcee had put her data pad on the coffee table, letting the song play from the device, and stood up straight, holding out her hand to him, and lightly bowing her helm down.

"I also haven't forgotten how to lead. May I?"

"Might as well. If I don't, ya just gonna yap my audials off all the way home."

His words were laced with salt, but his face was as sweet as the melody behind them. He stepped off from his seat, and offered his hand, more than welcoming her to lead him. He placed his hand on her shoulder, while holding onto her other hand, arm outstretched. 

"Never thought that you would be standing here so close to me, there's so much I feel that I should say,  
but words can wait until some other day,"

Arcee's voice was soft as it filled the air, as smooth and as careful as their steps. They moved gingerly, so mindful and aware of each other's space. Not once did they trip over one anothers pedes, not once did they fumble over the carpet or bump into the coffee table.

"Kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again. It's been a long, long time~... Haven't felt like this, my dear, since I can't remember when,"

Scraps didn't know when he had set the cups down. Didn't know when he sat at the counter. It was hard to be aware of anything when you were watching something practically hypnotic.

"It's been a long, long time. You'll never know how many dreams I've dreamed about you, or just how empty they all seemed without you,"

While Arcee didn't write the song by any means, she might as well have, for every lyric, every tune, every movement, was completely devoted to Ratchet, truly and wholeheartedly. 

"So kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again. It's been a long, long time,"

Arcee looked at him as though he was the only thing in the universe, and as grouchy as Ratchet could be, it was clear that he was just the same, if not more so.

"Ah, kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again. It's been a long time. Haven't felt like this my dear, since I can't-oh!"

Ratchet had interrupted the grand finale as he suddenly dipped her, and pecked her right on her lips. Her face exploded as she laughed, lightly swatting at his arm.

"Oh you naughty SCOUNDREL! You never let me finish!"

Who knew something so simple as a little waltz, could translate into such soft, warm faces. Into such loose, flustered giggles between them. Arcee took notice of Scrapper sitting there, and cleared her vocal processor, obviously embarrassed. 

"Ratchey dear,"

Ratchet realized exactly just what the problem was, and carefully lifted her back up, coughing into his palm as he sat back down.

"Well hey hey, don't stop on my account, ya looked like you were havin' a blast!"

"Oh we always do. It's an old, tender song."

She scooted Ratchet's coffee cup towards him, him nodding in gratitude. Scrapper sipped on his own drink as he watched them both. They were as sweet as they were old.

"Where'd you guys even hear that tune? Thought Arcee was more or less unavailable since the day you met her?"

"Old bots like us need breaks from time to time. After Megatron finally got what he deserved, we decided to take a week from work. Asked the little fem where we should vacation, and guess where she picked?"

"Junkion! I've ALWAYS wanted to go there!"

"Junkion? Never heard of it."

"It's a junky planet. Literally, it's full of trash, garbage, and even more trash."

Arcee lightly pushed his shoulder, lips in a scowl.

"It's also a huge hub of activity. The natives there were SO kind. The planet is known for having a huge amount of media from different planets, hence why I wanted to go. It is where we heard OUR song, so you can't really complain, can you?"

"I could complain about all the stuff to trip over. About the smell. About the fact that I couldn't understand a damn word anyone said."

He sipped at his cup of coffee, and despite the tone holding only distaste, his words were music to Arcee's audials.

"But...could've been worse. Arcee was a surprisingly good translator, and she was pleased by every little thing, leaving less work for me. Should've seen her, smiling at trash like I got her a cassette puppy."

"Which I'm STILL hoping to get for my creation day."

"No promises."

His smirk said otherwise, but Arcee knew better than to address it, less she have to wait longer to get what she wanted. She already knew the name she had in mind. 'Twinkle'. Ratchet gave a light shake of his helm as he sipped at his drink, evolving into a groan as Arcee decided to, as always, care about business that wasn't her own.

"Speaking of promises, did someone keep to theirs?"

Scrapper pretended not to hear, but was stopped the second Arcee placed her hand onto his, grip firm, but delicate. Scrapper shrank so low, he'd make Bumblebee look tall.

"N...no. I-I'm sorry! He just came home, all covered in dirt and tired and...I got too nervous."

Arcee had come to see them a month ago, where she made Scrapper promise to be honest to Mix about how he truly felt. She groaned lightly as she patted his hand.

"I understand Scrapper, really I do, emotions aren't easy, but you can't dance around the topic forever. Look, why don't we try to get you to talk about it, first?"

"Sweetspark, can't it wait till after my coffee? I don't want to purge all over this nice counter."

He chuckled as Arcee gave him a light smack on his shoulder. While Arcee was sweet and nurturing, Ratchet was plenty cynical and heavy handed. It was a dynamic that to those on the outside, seemed as imbalanced as oil cakes and Beryllium baloney (which Mix loved), but in truth, they blended together as sweetly as mineral milk in tea. Arcee sat up straight, hands neatly folded in her lap.

"Forget him, go on, pretend I'm Mix."

Scrapper fumbled with his hands, as if trying to corral his thoughts. Didn't work. Ratchet rolled his optics.

"Sweetspark, you don't look like a metallic gorilla, it's not at all the same."

"Fine then, pretend RATCHET is Mix."

"...well I mean you two have a similar frame."

Ratchet was about to take a sip of his coffee, before putting his mug down. He put his elbow on the table, pointing at Scrapper.

"You watch that mouth before I wash it out for ya. Because that, is the RUDEST thing anyone has ever said to me. Sentinel spewed nicer slag at me out of his actuator."

"Ratchey, at least pretend! Scrapper NEEDS this!"

Ratchet took a moment to groan, before he set his mug down. He reached his hand down, and scratched his aft.

"There, is that more realistic?"

"Ratchet."

He knew that name meant she was losing patience. He knew her long enough to know better than to push it. So he finally put his hands up in defeat, and sat a bit slouched, actually attempting to resemble the fat, lazy mech.

"Alright, there. I'm trying now. Better?"

"Better. Go on deary, say exactly what you want to."

Scrapper sank, rubbing the back of his neck. It took a good minute of self convincing, but as Arcee gently prompted him along, he was finally able to find his voice.

"Mix, I...I really like you. Like, more than you being my bro, kinda way? you're always there when I need you, I ALWAYS have fun with you, regardless of what we're doing, and I...trust you. A lot. We've been at the hip since day one, and I really can't picture doin' ANYTHING without you. Seeing you the first thing I wake up and the last thing before I fall into recharge...it's great. It really is. And a lot of people think ya rude and gross, but I...really just see a mech who has enough courage assert himself in his life. A mech I really admire. A-and a mech I think is really…"

He paused as he remembered two people were standing there looking at him. Ratchet looking as if he wanted to puke, and Arcee looking as though she was on the brink of tears, hands carefully covering her mouth. She peeled one away to gesture at him, trying to get him to proceed. Scrapper held his own hand, trying to say a word he REALLY wanted to get out in the open.

"A...a mech I think is really...cute-Arcee I can't DO it!!"

He hid his face in his hands, shaking his helm. It was true. He thought Mix was the cutest thing he'd ever seen. Even cuter than his Snarl (which is saying something, because Snarl was his precious baby), and it drove him crazy. He wanted to tell Mix he thought about him. A lot. Even in the dead of night, he thought about what it'd be like, being able to just say it. He loved Mix. He held onto his helm with both his hands, staring off into oblivion as the gay panic set in.

"I don't wanna come off as weird or make him uncomfortable! But I-I realized I liked him months ago! He's got this cute, sorta scrunched up face, I like the way he has the habit of tryin' to make himself the biggest mech in the room, I like the way he calls me 'Scrappy', I like watchin' him carry stuff, I like drinkin' with him, and sometimes I just get stuck watching his hands do stuff, and I think to myself, 'I know those hands are big and strong', and-"

Scrapper cut off as Arcee had suddenly appeared next to him, holding onto his hand and having her helm on his shoulder. It was a simple action, yet it was enough for his spark pulse to ease, and his muscles to lessen. Arcee spoke as calmly and as nurturing as ever.

"Scrapper, dear. I understand that this isn't easy. I thought so much like you, particularly about Ratchet. I'm not saying you go pour your spark out to him, but I'm saying all this panic, while sweet, is unwarranted. Mix may act the brute, but he cares for you. And for all you know, like Ratchet, a shared compassion for you both is all it takes, for something beautiful to blossom."

Ratchet gave a nod in agreement. He didn't think love was stupid, but these boys sure as hell were. Ratchet knew they were nuts for each other, but them being constructed from earth materials apparently put a cap in their IQ's. Sparkplug was smarter than both of them combined.

"It's killing ya, I can see that. Look, no one's gonna make either of ya say it, because that's like herdin' cyber cats. All we're saying is that EVENTUALLY ya gotta be honest with it. Ya gotta be fully aware that ya sorry aft is in love with-"

"Mixie!"

Mix had walked in just then, brow raised at the little love fest that was apparently going on. 

"What's uh, goin' on?"

"Oh, nothing!"

Arcee hated to lie, but she was rather good at it, especially when it was for a good cause. In this case, support for her dear little Scrapper. She'd grown too old to raise a sparkling, but Scrapper was like a son to her, leading her to support Scrapper though this endeavor.

"We were just talking about one of our shows we watched, Scrapper was getting emotional, the poor dear."

"Sounds like you, Scraps."

He chuckled. He joined them in the kitchen, and as he dug into the fridge for a drink, Arcee gave Scrapper a firm scowl.

'Tell him SOMETHING', she mouthed.

Scrapper raised his hands in the air, simultaneously checking to make sure Mix wasn't looking.

'I can't! He's too cute! What am I SUPPOSED to say?!'

'Anything that ends this suffering!'

"Aye, Scraps?"

They both put their hands behind their backs, and put on a fake smile.

"Yeah Mix?"

"Are we outta chrome loaf already? Told ya to leave the rest of it for me, ya aft."

Before Scrapper could respond, Arcee quickly walked to grab Ratchet's shoulder, a smile at her face.

"Tell you what, Ratchet will take me home, and I'll make you TWO chrome loafs! You both just relax! Ratchey, sweetie, come along!"

"Damn harpy-didn't finish my coffee!"

Ratchet complained, while simultaneously going along with Arcee's lead. Mix raised a brow as he watched them leave faster than that old mech should be able to. He shrugged, taking his mug and putting it in the sink.

"Didn't think that old mech could book it that fast. Arcee puttin' him in the dog house or somethin?"

"Uh...kinda. So uhm...how was work, Mix?"

"Good, good. We FINALLY fixed up the electrical system, so the south side isn't having blackouts anymore. Should've seen Bulky, finally knowing his way around the place. Feels just like yesterday we were savin' his dumb aft from buildin' with expired materials and nearly killin' himself. I mean, you remember this guy trying-Scrappy?"

Mix had been in the fridge looking for a drink, but when he closed the fridge, he noticed the other wasn't really paying attention, staring off into space.

"Scraps. Aye, someone home up there?"

He leaned over to snap his servos in front of his optics, and it was enough to bring him back, lightly shaking his helm.

"S-sorry, sorry. I just...look Mix, can we talk?"

"What? Did Ratchet say slag about my weight? I'm a healthy thirty thousand pounds, and that's WITHOUT a load of concrete-"

"No no, it's..something important."

Scrapper held onto the others shoulders, and was about to let it all spill, when he met the others optics. His brow was raised, and his head was slightly cocked. Scrapper opened his mouth to say something, and Mix lightly rolled his hands, trying to coax it out of him.

"If it's important, ya think ya would've said it by now. Come on, Swoop's gonna fly in ya damn mouth if you leave it open."

"Okay, sorry. I just…"

He sighed. How could he deserve someone as great as Mix, when he couldn't even SAY it? He sighed, and forced a small smile.

"You uh...know if we have any cookies left?"

Mix snorted, lightly shoving Scrapper to the side as he grabbed his apron.

"Dunno, but I'll look around, see if I can find any in the cabinets."

Mix tied the apron around his body, and was about to grab the cookie dough from the freezer, when he motioned to the living room.

"Go watch tv or somethin', dealing with Ratchet must'a been exhausting. I'll look to see if we have cookies."

"Why do you need an apron to look for cookies?"

"Why do YOU need to ask so many damn questions? Go on, get."

Mix gave him a light shove, and Scrapper couldn't help but chuckle, getting out of the kitchen. He turned on the tv, and allowed it to play for a moment, just to fool Mix, before sneaking his head back into the kitchen. Mix unwrapped the cookie dough, and started to knead it into the counter. Scrapper liked asphalt chip cookies, but he LOVED it when Mix added chocolate covered wheel-nuts. And Mix, apparently feeling generous, added quite a handful to the dough. Scrapper was careful not to make any noise, not wanting Mix to know he was watching. It was the sweetest thing he'd ever seen, watching Mix take so much love and care into something. Something that was he was making...for him.

And here he was, completely unable to even say 'I love you'. How could someone like Scrapper have someone like Mix? He had to clamp his hand over his mouth as it only got better. He was pulling out the cookie cutters now. Was he using the stars? The squirrels? Oh if it was the hearts, he'd die. Scrapper didn't get to see what shape they were, as he had to dip back into the living room as Mix put the cookies in the oven. He waited a moment, before dipping his helm back in. Snarl had poked his helm through the window, and after washing his hands, received the cheek scratches he required.

"Look at ya big guy, ya covered in mud. We gonna need to get the hose again?"

Snarl opened his mouth, biting Mix's helm. It was delicate, much the way a dog would hold its rather big puppy. However, Mix stood back as if it hurt, wincing terribly.

"Dear PRIMUS, ya breath is awful! Something DEAD in there?!"

Snarl whimpered, head slunk down lower as he realized Mix didn't want to pet him anymore.

"Don't you dare. Don't you DARE gimme that face. You and Scraps ALWAYS-"

He stopped for a moment, before sighing, and returning to pet him, Snarl leaning into him as much as he could, given that only his head was in the house (and he learned last time not to lean too hard. Broke the sink entirely. And the wall. Wasn't fun). Mix sighed.

"Ya just like Scrappy. Always givin' me that look I can't say no to. It ain't fair."

What did that mean? Was that good? Was that bad? Did he and Snarl share the same big nose? Was he overthinking this? He kept his hand over his mouth, wanting to hear all he could.

"Did you see if Ratchet gave him any slag? Guy looks beat, and I'M the one who went to work."

Snarl gave a light grunt in response, and Mix sighed.

"Poor guy. He does a lot around here, feel like he doesn't know how much-"

The oven dinged. When Mix turned around, Scrapper bolted, and in his panic, tried to sit on the couch. He, more or less, tripped over it like a hurdle. He groaned as his shoulder felt the impact, and he was about to get up, when he looked up to see Mix, hand on his hip, and the other holding a tray of cookies.

"Scraps."

"...Yeah?"

"Why you on the floor?"

"...I like the floor."

"Uh huh. Ya need help, or ya gonna let the cookies get hard?"

"...I could use a hand."

Mix reached down, and helped him back up onto the chair. That was when he finally saw the cookies.

"You...made a bunch of Snarls?"

"I didn't MAKE nothin', they came like that."

"...they're warm though."

"Maybe they're radioactive or somethin- I don't work for the damn cookie company. Just eat."

Scrapper helped himself to a cookie, and he swore it was better than any barrel of oil he's ever had. It was soft, warm, and it soothed his poor spark. He looked up at Mix, who carefully plunked a can of oil on the other arm rest.

"Hey Mix?"

"What, you want K-juice instead?"

"No, this is perfect. I...just really wanted to say thank you."

He lifted his hand up to hold one of Mix's. Scrapper swore nothing felt more right, than touching Mix. He felt sturdy, solid. Made him feel almost safe. Mix looked down at their hands, and surprisingly, didn't peel his away.

"Aye, no problem. You look a little rough. After ya finish those, ya should go take a nap upstairs."

"But I really should give Snarl his bath-"

"Aye, ya been cleanin' all day. AND dealing with a mech older than Cybertron. Ya done enough, I'll give the big lug a wash. Shove a tic tac in that maw while I'm at it."

"You sure you can handle it?"

"Course I can! You just relax. Ya got your shift tomorrow anyway, ya need rest."

"...thanks bro. A lot."

"Anytime, bro."

They looked at each other for a moment, before Mix leaned down, and pressed his lips against his own. Seemed just like yesterday they were just at thirty one. Now?

One thousand and two.

They both never lost track. It was something unspoken, unaddressed, almost instinctual. 

One thousand and three. One thousand and four. One thousand and five. One thousand and six.

Maybe it was the fact that he had been thinking about his Mix all day. Maybe it was the cookies. The hand holding. The apron. The way Mix looked at him.

One thousand and seven. One thousand eight. One thousand nine.

Soft, firm, needy.

One thousand and ten.

They had kissed so often, yet Scrapper was still nervous every time. Especially when he looked at him right after. It was a look that Scrapper couldn't exactly pinpoint. Yet, it still made his frame stiffen. He pulled away, looking Scrapper in his optics. There was hesitation there, and Scrapper was terrified of where this might stem from. Mix cleared his vocal processor and stood up straight.

"I'm...imma go handle Snarl. Just put ya plate in the kitchen when ya done, I'll clean it."

Mix turned around and walked to the kitchen to put his apron away. He came back into the living room, only to walk out the door, most likely to get Snarl's bath over with. Scrapper sighed as he got up from his chair, taking the last two cookies and dropping his plate off into the kitchen, as well as downing the rest of the can. He munched on one of the cookies as he went upstairs to his bedroom, slipped on his nightgown, and was about to hop into berth when he looked outside his window. Even with the window closed, he could still hear Mix's loud yelling. He was doing it all wrong. He was trying to scrub Snarl down with a sponge, and hose him down with water and soap. You were SUPPOSED to fill up a tub full of warm water, and give him a tin can to keep him distracted during his cleaning. If not-

"Oh you BASTARD!!"

Mix barked. Snarl of course, got bored, and was running and stomping all over the place, kicking up dirt, and only getting them both covered in mud. Scrapper sighed gently as he placed his chin on his hand, watching them outside the window.

"Alright, Snarl, listen you little fragger. Ya gonna take a bath, ya gonna stop smelling like a junkyard, and Scrappy is gonna be proud of the both of-"

He turned to see what Snarl was looking at, just in time to meet Scrapper's gaze. He gave the other a smile and a wave, and Scrapper returned it, only to slink away. He felt embarrassed. He was up here, watching Mix like some fool. He gave a light whine as he plopped into berth, hugging a pillow. He looked at the last cookie, and his spark pounded.

"Mix...why...why can't I just TELL you? I mean...we kiss and slag. Do we just do it for the sake of doin' it?..."

Scrapper scowled. He liked kissing Mix, really he did. But did Mix like it too? Was he WORTH liking? Scrapper and Mix hadn't addressed it, but Scrapper HAD left Mix to fend for himself, what feels like so long ago. He knew better now, he cared too much for Mix to ever do such a thing again, but that didn't wipe the slate clean. What was he thinking? He hated that he thought he could HAVE Mixie, let alone that he deserved him.

"I don't even want this cookie anymore…"

Scrapper thought about tossing it, before immediately feeling guilty. Sure, toss whatever you didn't like. Scrapper was usually seen as the better of the two, particularly by Sari, but he wasn't good. He was an awful, awful mech. What was he doing, taking Arcee and Ratchet as guides towards the relationship he so desperately wanted? Thoughts like this plagued Scrapper's mind, and the cookie watched in silent judgement as his face plunked into the pillow, and he inevitably fell asleep.

\---------  
"Well? How'd it go?"

Bumblebee asked, putting his controller down as Arcee and Ratchet walked back in. Arcee hesitated, before sighing.

"It...could've been better. Poor dear, he's helm over heels for him. Too much so. He's plum embarrassed of his feelings."

"Which is stupid, given that all they do is drink, sleep, and canoodle all damn day."

Ratchet rolled his optics. He was about to add more input, when he looked over at Optimus, who was over in the corner, talking to Prowl and Bulkhead. 

"Prime? What's the matter? You and Bulkhead are usually all over this 'Scrapix' business."

"Which by the way, is a stupid ship name, we need something else."

Bulkhead furrowed his brow at Bumblebee.

"Hey, their names aren't easy to work with-that's what we got."

Optimus rolled his optics as he motioned Arcee and Ratchet to join. He motioned to the map on the table in front of him, where it was full of pin points, all of which were purple.

"See all these? Bulk, Prowl, and I, have all added 'suspicious occurrences' that we've noticed here on this map. We've also added reports of suspicious activity."

"But no one's actually SEEN anything?"

Optimus lightly shook his helm.

"No. Only reports. Random things stolen, occasional disturbances. Reports of things dipping in and out of alleyways and parks."

Ratchet folded his hands across his chest, scoffing.

"Humans believe in ANY damn thing. Like random apes in the woods called 'big feet'"

"Bigfoot."

"Now see that makes no sense-does it have just ONE big foot? Leave it to humans to make something so primus damn stupid."

"We're getting off topic."

Optimus glared, before looking over the map.

"See these ones I've placed black dots on? Those are older, and the unmarked ones are newer. These pin points have gotten closer with time. Do you know what this means?"

Prowl nodded as all optics landed on the paper in front of him.

"Whoever this is. Whatever this is. Is coming closer to our base of operations."

"And I highly doubt they're friend. But the problem is, Megatron and his goons are in Cybertronian's prison system. I even live called them just a few minutes ago. Not even Swindle is roaming around anymore. So...who would it be?"  
\--------  
"A genius plan! A miraculous plan from a smart, wonderful leader!"

"Oh do go on, Sunstorm! No one tires of your praise!"

"I-I don't like this idea! It doesn't sound safe! I-I suggest we just go to a drive in movie! Get some snacks! A-and maybe a nice blanket-"

"Don't worry, you wuss. I'LL be carrying you all in the fight anyway!"

"You're all so STUPID!"

"Can it, WOMAN!"

"Aye, the lot of ya."

All of their wings drooped down submissively. He pulled out his cy-gar, and motioned for Slipstream to attend to him. She leaned down, and ignited it for him, allowing him to take an inhale. He held onto her chin, looking at the others.

"Ya show the fem some respect. Less ya forget, she's MY second honcho. And the lot of ya will ALL be pullin' ya weight. I'm gettin' my damn revenge, and takin' back what's mine."

He let go of her chin, not seeing her wince in disgust. He peered over the cliff, hands on his hips.

"See that, toots? We're gonna start here. Soon, the whole damn planet."

Slipstream kneeled down to his level, hands at his shoulders. She was nothing if not opportunistic. 

"And soon, you'll be standing above them all, my dear."

"Ironic, isn't it?"

Skywarp whispered to Sunstorm, until he was knocked to the ground. He looked up at the source of the attack. His ever firm, ever mean, Dirtboss.

"Don't forget, the lot of ya can be replaced. When this city is mine, I'M callin the shots."

He leaned down lower, blowing the smoke into the seekers face.

"Imma be absolutely larger than life. And once I get those two traitors back, imma get the respect I deserve."

He looked up into the distance as his pede held the seeker down to the floor.

"Ya thought Megatron was big. Ya ain't seen NOTHIN' yet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed it! The reference to 'twinkle' is inspired by work by @xtechfirex on tumblr, PLEASE check it out, its adorable! Also the song Arcee sang is "its been a long, long time" by kitty kallen!


	4. Getting Dirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Prime gets into some trouble with some dirty cons, and Mix & Scrapper get roped up in it. Feelings ensue, and someone gets hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy S H I T this took forever to get to you guys. With commissions, reviews, etc, I've been a busy bitch. On the plus side, this has SO much goddamn content, so I hope it was worth the wait! seriously, get some snacks, get a drink, hunker down, you're in for a read.

"You sure? Or is this like the last time, where you swore you saw bigfoot?"

"First of all, it was huge and hairy, so I'm like, eighty percent sure it WAS big foot. Second, yes I'm sure I saw something!"

Ratchet groaned as he drove down the street. Everyone was on patrol duty. The reports had caused the citizens of Detroit to damn near place themselves under house arrest in their paranoia. It caused the autobots to essentially play 'bodyguard', and undergo more patrols. Optimus was at base, awaiting calls from distressed citizens (Bulkhead couldn't handle the yelling, Ratchet didn't have time nor patience for their slag, Prowl would just up and leave, Bumblebee often started insulting whoever was on the line, and Arcee didn't deserve the names she'd get called), while everyone did their rounds. Ratchet was on the south and west side of town, Prowl was in the nearby forests, Bulkhead got the north, and Arcee joined Bumblebee in handling the rest, mainly because Bumblebee somehow got dinged up when left alone for too long. Arcee pitched in as she drove alongside Bumblebee.

"Sweetspark, let's not dismiss the poor boy. Optimus, permission to investigate?"

"Go ahead, Arcee. Bumblebee, pay attention. Do not get TOO far off track, keep to Arcee's hip and-"

"Blah blah blah, I GOT it boss bot!"

"...Arcee?"

There was rustling. Optimus took a sip of his energon, happy that there weren't currently any calls from distressed citizens. Prowl added his input with a sigh.

"If it's a squirrel, take a picture of it, I need it for my collection."

"Shove it."

More rustling. No one spoke for a moment, until Bumblebee's voice broke the silence.

"Uh...guys? This isn't a squirrel. Unless it's like, a weresquirrel."

"I'm not gonna ask, less we get distracted. What do you see?"

"A LOT of broken down trees. And...burns?"

Arcee chipped in after a moment of inspection.

"The bark is scorched. Fuel burns."

"Fuel burns? Huh. Those are unusual."

"Yeah...it's still smoking act-"

Optimus raised a brow as the audio cut off. There was a moment of silence, before it quickly fell into static.

"Bumblebee?"

Nothing.

"Bulkhead, can you check out the scene? I'm going out there with you. Ratchet, swap with me over here. It's probably just a malfunction with his comm link-you know he doesn't like getting his tools fixed when we tell him to."

"Headin' there now, prime."

"Good."

There was another pause, before both heard him sigh.

"Ratchet, can you swing by to pick up Sari at the mall? I forgot she needed a ride."

"When did we become babysitters?"

"When we agreed to keep Bumblebee. Sari was just an extra."

Ratchet had a light chuckle at that. He had Sari in his passenger seat but a moment later, bags by her feet

"Hey kiddo, how was the mall trip?"

"Good! I bought these new hair clips, and some stuff for you guys. Like you, I got you a bumper sticker!"

"I'm terrified. What's it say?"

"'Here to save your ass, not kiss it'"

"...alright, I actually kinda like that one. I'll let you put it on later today, bit of an issue at the base."

"Did Bumblebee break the TV again?"

"Not that I'm aware of. No, we were out scouting, Bumblebee and Arcee's signal got cut off during their patrol. I'm in charge of communications as soon as Optimus goes out into the field."

"That...doesn't worry you?"

"Nah, Bulkhead is on the way to them right now. Stupid reasons, probably. Nothing to be worried about."

Ratchet pulled up to the base, with Optimus only giving a small wave as he transformed, and left. Ratchet helped Sari up to watch the screen as she shifted through her bags.

"I got Bulkhead sidewalk chalk, I got Prowl-is...is everything okay?"

"It's fine. Just remembering all the reports I've been hearing lately. I'm not scared for Arcee or anything, but I have a right to be actually worried. She's never one to have malfunctions with her comm links

He tried to pin a signal onto either Bumblebee or Arcee, but found nothing. Odd. That was when Optimus's signal went off as well.

"Huh. Well I'll be damned. Maybe I should give the ol' system a reboot. Keep losing signals."

He turned off the system, and started the slow process of booting it back up. Ratchet looked over at Sari, chuckling.

"Ya bought a recipe book? When did you start baking?"

"Oh it's for Mix. I figured it'd be cool for him to get some inspiration from these."

"Bah, that fat aft doesn't deserve ya, kid."

He carefully patted her head as he watched the screen slowly flash awake. Optimus, Bulkhead, Bumblebee, and Arcee's signals, all gone. That's not good. 

"Prowl? Prowl, are you online?"

"Course. Did Optimus make it to the location?"

"I...don't know. His signal is gone."

"It WHAT?"  
Ratchet heard the skid of his breaks as he exclaimed.

"Didn't Bulkhead go too?!"

"His signal is gone too, you're the only one I can get in contact with."

"Optimus wouldn't want me to follow."

"He ain't here to stop you."

"Valid point."

"Just stay on the line. Do NOT disconnect."

"I follow."

He turned to see Sari, face morphing into concern. Was he also worried? Yes, but spreading that negativity would only make things worse. He carefully patted her head again.

"Aye, don't give me that sorry look, kiddo. You're a mature fem now, gotta be strong. Let's straighten that back."

"Like this?"

She asked, back straight and chest puffed out. She could put an elite guardsman to shame.

"Bingo. Big and proud. That a' girl."

Her smile was just enough for Ratchet to turn back to the screen.

"Prowl, still with us?"

"Yes. Do you still have my signal?"

"Yeah, you're nearing the location. What's the visual?"

"Hmm...a lot of trees down. The rest of the team had been here, I see the tire marks. Arcee, Bumblebee, Bulkhead...Optimus."

"Still don't see anyone there?"

"Not that I can see. No clear signs of much, really.”  
"That's odd...your signal is still strong. Is there anything that looks like it could obstruct our calls?"

"No, the field is pretty open and clear. I'm not sensing any high mineral deposits, nor any scrambling technology that could do the job. I-wait. Are you getting that?"

"Yeah, I just picked it up too."

A distress signal. It was something anyone with a comm link could achieve, and was as universal as 'Ba weep granna weep ninny bong'. And unless tweaked otherwise, there was no way you could tell exactly who it was from.

"You're going to follow aren't you?"

"Optimus would. It's the closest thing we have to-"

"...Prowl? Prowl!"

Ratchet listened in distress as the comm call fell into static yet again. There was but a temporary relief as the static was filled with another voice. The relief was soon replaced with dread.

"Listen. Ya want ya boys back, ya gonna take that signal, and ya gonna follow it. Don't dawdle, and maybe little pinky pie here won't get hurt."

The communication cut off entirely. Ratchet's servos hovered over the controls. What just happened? He didn't recognize the voice, didn't recognize the location. It was sudden, wild, almost unreal. There was no grandeur, no face to associate with the sudden fall. Ratchet slowly turned to Sari, who was only staring back up at him. She didn't even need to hear it all, for she knew just from Ratchet's face alone, that something wasn't right. Sari scowled, and after glancing up at the monitor, strapped on her jetpack.

"I'm going."

"Young fem, you are NOT going out, Optimus wouldn't-"

"Stand here and do nothing, Ratchet."

She shot him a glare, and for a moment, Ratchet hesitated. She had grown up quite a bit, and he could tell just how much responsibility had rubbed off on her from Optimus. Unfortunately, it made him only more worried. It was too late to catch her in time as she flew off, and he looked at the entrance, then back at the slowly shrinking Sari, sighing.

"I'm taking a PERMANENT vacation after I save all these idiots."

He transformed, and skidded off.

\--------

This was the place. An old abandoned mine, with the door wide open. Whoever this was, they were a cocky fragger. Ratchet brought out his magnets as he walked on into the darkness. He turned them on as a way to guide his way inside, using them to inspect the area. The place was barren, dark. That is, until a monitor suddenly filled the room with light. Ratchet still kept his magnets bared, still on guard, as he noticed the makeshift decepticon like insignia above the screens. He reached up, and lightly patted at the dust on one of the screens. This place had been here for a while, given the amount of dust collected to his servos. Longer than these reports even started, from what he gathered. The location might be abandoned, but not neglected. Ratchet whipped around, and sure enough, he caught a pest. He raised a brow as he brought the seeker towards him. He remembered this one. White, and of course, one of Starscream's many clones. Though the conehead was new.

"You. Haven't seen the likes of ya in a long time."

"Oh we missed you autobots, terribly."

Right. This one was as honest as the day was long. Ratchet rolled his optics.

"Look, let's make this easier for everyone. You give yourself up, and I'll throw in a pillow in your brand new cell."

"Oh that sounds absolutely lovely! I'll gladly turn myself in!"

Before Ratchet could snap at the other for his attitude, he was suddenly knocked down to the floor, seeker being freed as a result. Ratchet ignored the throbbing pain in his chin, in an attempt to get up, when he felt a throb in the back of his head. The cause peered down at him, lips coated in a smirk and lipstick.

"Why don't you be a nice old bucket of bolts, and tuck those little magnets away. This isn't going to be pretty if you don't."

Ratchet peered up at the seekers seeming to pop into the scene like bot spiders, and decided he can't help the team if he was dead, so he obeyed, magnets tucked away, and hands in the air. Slipstream stood up straight, a victorious smile as she kept her blaster on him.

"Sweetspark, we have the last piece!"

Ratchet didn't know who he was expecting, but he definitely wasn't expecting this short, round, fat, grumpy looking mech to walk in. Must've been new to the scene, given the fact that Ratchet didn't recognize him in the slightest.

"And you must be Ratchet. Pleased to meet ya and ya lady, name's Dirt Boss."

"Were ya MADE with dirt?"

Dirt Boss gave a little bit of a chuckle at that, as if Ratchet was a sparkling who just called him a meanie.

"TECHNICALLY yes, but that's not important. What's important, is ya cooperation. I need you to call someone for me."

"What? Can't reach the controls, short stack?"

Dirt Boss growled at that, and before Ratchet knew it, the little scraplet was throwing punches in his gut, over and over, definitely putting a few dents into Ratchet's chassis. Ratchet was certain he'd pop him open like a can opener, had the female seeker not pulled him away by his shoulders.

"Sweetie, easy, easy. Relax. You need him, remember? Just wait till this is over, then you can go nuts and bolts."

Dirt Boss was clearly not fond of the mere sight of the other's face.

"Alright...alright. Gimme a cig."

Slipstream pulled out his stash from her sub space, and after lighting it for him, he inhaled the chemicals, and relaxed. He walked back up to Ratchet, smearing the energon off his cheek as he got into his face.

"Alright. We're gonna try this again. You ain't gonna make a joke, you're gonna cooperate."

"And WHY should I?"

He glared into the other's optics as Dirt Boss snapped his servos. The fem left, and came back, throwing Arcee onto the floor. She looked totalled. Paint scratched off, dents amongst her frame, and plenty of wounds littering her body. Slipstream chuckled as she kicked her side, making her groan in pain.

"She WAS in better condition, but the old bolt put up quite the fight."

Ratchet met her weak optics, then Dirt Bosses'.

"Give me sixty kliks to see if she's severely damaged. Then I'll do whatever you want."

"...Slip, dear, let her loose."

She looked hesitant, but shrugged, un doing her stasis cuffs. Arcee struggled, but managed to quickly crawl on all fours towards Ratchet, immediately meeting his embrace.

"Fifty five kilks, old coot."

Ratchet more or less ignored him, holding onto her face.

"Any major malfunctions?"

"N-no, just...hurts really. No major warning notifications, though I'm embarrassed to say I've definitely looked better."

"You kiddin'? That smile is still one in a billion."

This forced another chuckle from her, only to dissipate as Dirt Boss butted in again.

"Thirty kliks."

Ratchet scowled, before holding firmly onto her shoulders.

"Look, Arcee, I need you to listen, and listen good. You need to behave-"

"Oh you've wanted to tell me that for ages, haven't you?"

"Yeah, now I got an excuse."

Dirt Boss made a hand motion for him to speed it up, and Ratchet frantically tried to get his thoughts in order.

"You need to behave, and keep everyone else in line for me. Is anyone critical?"

"No. A few scuffs. I'm the worst for wear."

"Good, good. I'll handle this all, I swear. I love-"

He wasn't allowed to continue his sentence as he was clocked in his jaw, and Arcee was pulled away, crying out for him as she thrashed against the seeker's grip, to no avail. Ratchet didn't care about the throbbing pain in his body. Didn't care that Dirt Boss was glaring at him, clearly wanting his attention. He kept his optics on Arcee until the darkness consumed her. Dirt Boss's snapping fingers brought him back to the situation at hand.

"You got what you want. Now it's my turn."

"...alright. What do you want?"

"Those two morons, Scrapper and Mixmaster. I need you to call them over and get them here."  
Ratchet raised a brow.

"You have all these seekers, that's plenty of chaos. What do you need those two for?"

"I love my crew, especially my Slipstream. But I got a project that these numb nodes can't do. I need someone with the know-how. And...I need that payback. Unfortunately, I dunno how to contact them anymore. So YOU'RE gonna do it, get 'em here, and I'll handle the rest."

Ratchet didn't know what his plan was. Didn't know what was going to happen. But he did know one thing. He sincerely wished Scrapper and Mixmaster could handle this. Short as he was, Dirt Boss was a very big problem.

\----------

"Change it back, think the commercial is over."

"It's been like, thirty seconds, Scraps."

"Please?"

Mix rolled his optics as he flicked away from the sports channel, to Impractical Jokers. Scrapper grinned in success, and Mix gave a light sigh. It was a lazy Saturday, and Scrapper and Mix were sitting on the couch together, enjoying their stolen cable. Mix was laying on his side, arm rest of the couch supporting him, while the rest of the body was supporting Scrapper's. His other hand was over the other's shoulders, and in all honesty, they felt comfortable. Scrapper lifted up his hand to feed the other another chase chip (his hands were clearly busy), and Scrapper lightly swore.

"God dammit Mix, careful, ya could've bitten my damn fingers off!"

"Hey, I'm hungry, not my fault."

Mix clearly held no regret, and Scrapper could NOT stop feeding him, so he gave a light grumble as he continued, being very careful to not have his servo chewed off. Mix snickered at the tv.

"How much you wanna bet Sal is gonna win this episode?"

"What? No way, Quinn gives less of a damn, he's gonna win."

"Oh you wanna bet?"

Scrapper turned his head away from the tv, to Mix.

"Aight, bet. If you win?"

"Then I get to kiss ya."

They were silent for a moment. Shit, why DID he say that? Scrapper's face heated up, and he huffed.

"Alright, deal. If I win, which I know I'm gonna, I get to kiss YOU."

Mix forced himself to glare at the other, feeling his own cheeks flare up.

"Deal. Shake on it."

They both shook their hands, and turned back to the tv. They resumed their usual snacking and tv watching, and Mix gave a light swear.

"Come on, Sal, you motherfucker."

"He's not gonna do it, he's not gonna do it."

There was hesitation. Scrapper shook his helm.

"He's not gonna. He's not. He's a puss, he can't-"

"We can't tell if he's gonna win if you can't shut ya MAW."

Mix put his hand over the other's mouth, and they both glared at the TV. There was stillness in the room. Then Mix sat up, one fist in the air.

"HA. Told ya aft! I TOLD you he was gonna win!"

He tore his hand off of the other's mouth, and snickered at the other's pout.

"Wow, ya a sore loser, ain't ya?"

He held the other's chin as he asked this, and pressed his lips against his. He was so stubborn, which led to a little hesitation, but of course, Scrapper gave in, holding onto his cheeks.

Hundred thousand.

Seemed wild, that they were actually at that number so soon. It felt casual now, as natural as having a can of oil. Scrapper chuckled this time, shifting himself to sit on the other's lap. Mix stiffened, but ultimately, held onto Scrapper's sides. Mix still felt weird, being all touchy feely with his best mate, but it felt...good.

Hundred thousand and one. Hundred thousand and two. Hundred thousand and three. Hundred thousand and four.

Scrapper pulled away, looking over at his face. He moved his hands from his cheeks, to his chest, lightly pushing into him.

"Mix. Take it easy. Nothin' weird going on here, alright?"

"I-I never said anythin' was weird."

Scrapper didn't push it much further. He certainly wasn't able to, given that Mix leaned up to continue.

Hundred thousand and five. Hundred thousand and six. Hundred thousand and seven. Hundred thousand and eight.

Scrapper felt just right, exactly where he was. He was warm, smooth, despite all the dirty, grimy work they were used to doing.

Hundred thousand and nine.

Mix couldn't fight a soft groan from spilling out of his mouth. Scrapper wasn't just placing his hands on him. His hands were wandering, grazing around his frame. They've lived together for years, and yet here Scrapper was, exploring as if he didn't know how he was put together.

Hundred thousand and ten.

Then those servos slid down to his sides. Mix didn't realize just how gentle his hands were, how it made Mix lightly squirm. He was never touched like that, and it felt very confusing, when he realized he wanted more. Scrapper's body wasn't helping, only seeming to force more heat into him as his body was trying to expel its own.

Hundred thousand and eleven. Hundred thousand and twelve.

Scrapper gave a light swear against his lips. It was simple, just a soft, classic, 'fuck'. But for whatever reason, it made something switch on inside of Mix. One hand moved from his hip, right to his aft, and the other held onto the back of his helm, practically forcing a light yelp in surprise. He should be slowing his roll, this was on the brink of being totally homo, but Scrapper wasn't pushing him away. He was embracing it.

Hundred thousand and thirteen. Hundred thousand and fourteen. Hundred thousand and fifteen.

Mix felt the other slowly grind his panel into his own, and Mix groaned in light pain, his panel really hating how closed it was. He didn't know what this was leading up to, he didn't know why he wanted to push this further. What he DID know, was that when he felt that hand graze upon his panel, he knew he wanted it. He wanted it now, to just be free of his prison that was his panel. Unfortunately, he was doomed to a life sentence as Scrapper picked up the suddenly ringing phone within an arm's reach (yes they have a landline. Sure they tended to use the comm link function that came with any fellow robot alien, but their dumbasses forgot to answer it when they were busy, so the loud ringing of a landline made it easier to contact them), and cradling it between his shoulder and audial. He cleared his vocal processor before answering.

"Scrapper here, who's dis?"

Mix's grip on the couch tightened as Scrapper only kept going, on hand on his gut, helping his hips slowly rock into his.

"Aye, Ratch! How you doin'? I-oh. Aight. Mix, it's for you."

Scrapper held his phone out to the other, trying not to grin.

"You. Are a bastard."

"Don't be rude and leave the mech hangin'"

Mix snatched the phone from his grip, taking a second to breathe. Mix wasn't one to be shameful, but who wants to straight up moan into the line when some old bastard was calling?

"Yo, doc. What's up?"

"Mixmaster? Hello. Listen, I need you to come over to the coordinates I'm going to send you. We need your help building something."

Mix raised a brow. Weird, they usually left them alone during the weekends. Must be an emergency. Mix patted Scrapper's chest, a bit firmly, signalling him to stop. Scrapper knew that sign, and ceased his movements, face lightly scowling in confusion.

"It's pretty late in the day there, Doc bot. How big of a project we talkin'? We need to stop for materials?"

There was a pause. Mix listened closely, and he could've sworn someone was giving him an answer.

"We have plenty of things here. Anything else you'd think we'd need, we'll get. But you have to come over now, please."

That made Mix sit up fully. That was new. Ratchet never said 'please'. Well, not in that context. Closest he'd gotten was him saying 'please stop being a fat aft and help me for frags sake'. This sounded...sincere. Mix was officially on the edge.

"Uh, yeah, sure, we'll come over. Send the coordinates."

"Great, thank you."

Okay now THAT was a big red flag. Ratchet hated thanking Mix, especially before the job was done.

"Wait Ratch, don't hang up on me yet, I wanna see how Arcee is doin'"

A pause. Mix knew Arcee. The second you asked to talk to her, she'd jump at the opportunity to say hello. And there hasn't been an opportunity that she didn't take to answer.

"She's...in recharge. Little angel had a long day."

Ratchet was throwing him sign after sign, and Mix was on edge. If he had skin, they'd be rabid with goosebumps. Ratchet wasn't this polite, and he never called Arcee 'angel'. 'Doll', 'banshee', 'crazy fem', words that meant something, sure, but never 'angel'. He slowly nodded.

"Right...well, I'll just say hi when we come over. We'll be over when we can."

Ratchet didn't get to respond, before the familiar 'beep' of the dial tone replaced the sound of his voice. Scrapper sat there, brow raised.

"What's going on? I don't like that look ya got on, Mix."  
"Ratchet needs somethin'. I dunno if it's anything to be worried about yet, but it's somethin' he couldn't tell me over the line. Come on, let's go."

Mix stood up, double checking his pockets for their usual tools, when Scrapper folded his arms.  
"But we promised Snarl we'd stay in tonight. He's gonna get all pissy."

"Scraps, this sounds a little more important than Snarl's attitude."

Scrapper, upon Mix putting Snarl on such a low tier, folded his arms. Mix groaned.

"Fucks sake- we'll pick him up a toy on the way back. Happy?"

"Yes."

Scrapper lightly huffed as he walked on ahead outside the door. Scrapper and Mix would've gone through the groundbridge, but they didn't trust how glitchy it had been as of late. Little did they know, their use of their boat to the mainland, wasn't the only choice they'd be forced to make that night.  
\-----------

Sari poked her helm around the corner at the scene. She had made her way in there a little bit before Ratchet, just in time to see the entire event unfold. Fortunately, she was small enough not to be recognized by the bigger mechs. Before she could make a move to free her friends, or even escape to go get help, she suddenly found herself hiding on a nearby table, behind a stack of data pads, with the sound of voices filling the air. She tried not to scream as she was almost squashed by someone's aft. Sari kept her hands over her masked face, trying not to alert them to herlocation.

"Ya sure ya put them away right, babe?"

"Why do you always make sure I do things right, but never the other seekers?"

"Slipstream, dollface, I just don't want a reason to be mad at ya. Ya my lady, ya know your expectations are different from the chicken coop in the other room."

Slipstream didn't seem to believe him, hands folded over her chest as she looked at the mech in front of him. Primus, even sitting down, he was a short little creature, standing up straight, and barely standing past her knees, even as he was holding them.

"And? Is this gonna change when everything is ready and built?"

"Don't start givin' me attitude, lady."  
Dirt Boss pointed at her with a commanding servo, and her wings shot up straight in equal frustration.

"I'm more competent than all of those goons combined, and the fact that you constantly doubt me in front of them makes me feel as good as you look. Like slag."

Dirt Boss glared at her, before taking a hold of her chin.

"I KNOW ya competent, little tweety bird. But ya gotta understand, the fact that I let you TALK to me like that means I care about ya."

She yanked her face away, holding a sneer of disgust. He grumbled as he pulled at her knees, forcing their body's into contact.

"Look, let's apologize how we usually do, alright? That way we're both unhappy."

More specifically her, given no one else would touch this burnt pizza roll looking creature. She rolled her optics.

"Fine. Shouldn't take you long anyway. Go on, Shmoopie."

"Don't even gotta ask, ducky."

The names, mushy and cute in nature, were spoken with venom and disdain for one another. Sure they were polite ENOUGH with each other when they were in public, but they had a balanced relationship, full of hatred, and necessity. Dirt Boss hated her attitude and smart mouth, but he liked her body. She hated his body, hated his stupid voice, but adored his power and his ranking. Had it been like the past, with Megatron, she wouldn't even pass her exhaust fumes in his direction (she WISHED this was Megatron. Least he could see past her shins). And they were both well aware of this. As he parted her legs and placed himself in between them, looking up at her, they both made it clear with just a glance; there was no affection. Merely greed. Sari tried to take advantage of the situation, about to bolt, when she was suddenly forced to stay put, sharp claws blocking her like dangerous, sharp prison bars. Sari didn't know what was going to happen next. What she did know, was that she hoped everyone was safe. And that help would be coming, soon.  
\--------------

"I was WONDERING what they did with this place."

Scrapper rubbed at his helm as they both faced the old mine. They remembered this place, how Megatron had apparently used them to build space bridges for some intergalactic bullshit (Ratchet explained it, but they were too busy doing important stuff to listen fully. Like drinking), when hell broke loose. Mix shrugged.

"Apparently it was fixed at some point? From what I can tell, they at least fixed the cave in. Think Optimus and his folks would've mentioned that at some point."

"Being goody goodies all the time keeps you busy, I guess."

Scrapper made the motion to move ahead, when Mix stopped him.

"You uh, should probably let me lead. I got better headlights than you, we can see better that way."

Scrapper looked at him in curiosity, but shrugged, gesturing him to go on.

"Be my guest, Mix."

Was Mix lying out his tailpipe? Absolutely. But he really didn't want to admit that he was worried, and honestly, a little spooked. Maybe it was a bit much, but he didn't want Scrapper to go head first into danger. Besides, he was bigger, he could take a hit. He held onto the wood that shaped the entrance as he peered inside. Mix had been through a number of power outages in his life, but the combined darkness of them all, had somehow made its way right into this very mine. Even as he clicked on his headlights, it was like gliding a knife through frozen butter. He lightly tapped at the rock wall, before walking in. While the structure was the same on the whole, there was something different about the walls and the floors. It was as if you came back to your home, but everything was shifted to the side, even by a few inches. It was abnormal in a normal way.

"It's weird here ain't it?"

Mix was grateful as he heard the voice behind him. Dark as it was, he could read Scrapper's tone well enough to guess what his face looked like. It was comforting to know he was the same way.

"Ya can say that again."

"It's weird here ain't-"

"I don't ACTUALLY mean to do that, ya twit!"

Mix whisper/yelled as he jabbed him in the shoulder, making Scrapper chuckle. Was it stupid? Yes. But did it make his bolts loosen up a bit? Absolutely. One of Scrapper's many talents. As they made their way down, he was surprised to see light at the end of the tunnel. The middle of the cave was completely well lit, and looked more or less how it did before. Slight changes here and there yes, but like the rest of the cave, the same. That was when Scrapper chuckled, seeing Ratchet on a nearby monitor.

"Hey Ratchet! Ya had us scared there! Had us thinking something was wrong!"

Mix raised a brow as Ratchet just kept sitting still in the seat.

"Ratchet? Come on, don't tell me ya kicked the bucket on us, I keep telling Optimus to get you a fuckin' life alert, dunno why no one listens to me around here."

"Mix, I think there's something actually up with him."

Scrapper, as usual, was concerned for the old bag of bolts. Mix trailed behind him as Scrapper approached the seat, and turned it around. To say neither of them were ready for what they saw was an understatement. Ratchet was in the seat, hands cuffed to the arm rests. With Dirt Boss right on his lap. Should Mix have been a bit more surprised? Absolutely. But, Mix being himself, had one thing to say.

"Dirt this looks mad fuckin' gay my guy."

Even Scrapper had to join in to give him a 'fucking REALLY' look. Mix gestured towards them both.

"Bro, he's got a dude cuffed to a chair, and he's been on his lap for what I assume has been hours. That's as suspicious as I think it gets."

"...Okay I can see where you're coming from."

"It was for dramatic affect- will you two stop being stupid, I'm trying to be menacing."

Mix and Scrapper looked back towards the burnt chicken nugget of a mech. Mix spoke up first as Scrapper folded his arms across his chest.

"What is it ya want, Dirt?"

"You two remember Starscream and his clones, right?"

"The ones Optimus and his team have been trying to chase down?

"Exactly. See, the weird thing about these clones, is that where they lack in intelligence and brute strength, they make up for their resilience, and their ability to be easily tamed. So, I want more of 'em. That's why I'm here. That's why YOU'RE here."

Mix and Scrapper looked at each other in confusion, before looking back at Dirt Boss.

"Uh...not followin'"

Dirt Boss sighed, as if this was the most basic shit you'd ever heard of.

"I have blueprints for a machine that'll make me plenty of seekers. Billions, even. Unfortunately, there's bits of it missing. My other crew is dumb as a box of rocks, so I need you two to help me fill in the gaps, as well as building it."

"And we'd do that, why?"

"Well I mean, ya gonna do it regardless. I'm just giving ya two a choice."

It was then that Scrapper was suddenly pushed to the side, just in time for Mix to take a bullet for him. Scrapper couldn't help but stare as the all too familiar drill lodged itself in the other's forehead. Before Scrapper could even try to attack, before he could take the damn thing out, before he could even defend himself, Mix had his arms around him, and lifted him clean off the ground. This was the first time Scrapper could go WITHOUT a hug from Mixie. Dirt Boss gave a shrug as Scrapper squirmed in the other's iron grip.

"I was kinda hopin' I'd hit you, but I'll take fat aft here."

"Why is EVERYONE calling me fat?!"

Mix could probably think of something else to yell, but with his body held hostage, with fear forcing his spark to pound, there wasn't much he could do. Dirt Boss rolled his hand in a nonchalant manner, as if this was all but a normal occurrence.

"Let's give ya some time to think about this, eh Scrappy?"

As Mix's helm slammed on the back of his own, Scrapper's vision went offline.  
\---------------

"Is he alive?"

"Yeah. Just some busted paint."

Scrapper's systems soon booted back up, and he took in his surroundings. He was propped against a rock wall, laying amongst grime and dirt. He wasn't the only one. The entire team prime was here, stasis cuffs around their wrists. That'd explain why he couldn't move much past his head. He wished he could. Not just because he wanted out of here, wanted desperately to go check on his Mixie, but he wanted to immediately comfort Arcee. She didn't look seriously injured, but she certainly didn't look as if she was having a blast here.

"What the frag are we even doing here?"

Bumblebee tried to move, and succeeded. Granted it ended up with him putting too much weight into his movements and falling right to the dirty floor, forcing him to stay there, but he did in fact move. His voice was muffled as he ate dirt, and Bulkhead ended up translating.

"He says 'we're having a sleepover- the F you think we're here for?'"

There was a mumble, and Bulkhead scowled.

"I'm not swearing, Bee."

Optimus thankfully cut them off before their banter could cause further distractions.

"We were scouting, trying to see what was up with the suspicious activity these past few months, and apparently that's what Dirt Boss and his goons wanted. They used us as bait to get their servos on you."

Scrapper gave a light groan as his processor throbbed. Primus, hangovers had nothing on this.

"How long was I out for?"

Ratchet gave a slight movement of his head.

"Couple hours, give or take. Almost a full day."

"Primus…"

He forced his helm to turn, to look at Prowl. His optics were offline, and he was completely still.

"Is...Prowl-"

"Nah, he's alive. He did a forced shutdown, said it was some 'cyber ninja tactic' or whatever fraggin thing ya get from snortin' healing crystals."

At least Ratchet still had his wit. As far as he could tell, everyone appeared to be alive. Worse for wear, but nothing one should be worried about. Scrapper sighed.

"I take it we have no plan?"

Optimus added a sigh to the air of the room.

"We had a faint idea, but we've been waiting for you to wake up. For some reason, Dirt Boss's seekers keep coming in and asking if you're up."

"In ten minute intervals." Arcee added, adding a groan of discomfort. Scrapper raised a brow.

"For...me? What for? He's got Mixie."

"It would seem he's not satisfied with just that. It's slow going, and I'd imagine he'd want to speed up the project. Having you work with him, willingly as well, is clearly his current motivation."

Optimus might be a dipstick in the mud, but he was the first to scramble for any useful knowledge in any given situation. Before Scrapper could think of any response, they all fell silent as a door opened in the distance, and a seeker's face poked behind the barrier. The blue and purple one. Aka, the one furthest up his own aft.

"Ah, you're awake. Just in time. Dirt Boss was just asking about you. Sent only his best to check up on you."

Scrapper turned his helm as the seeker opened the cell, walking inside and standing in front of Scrapper, hands on his hips.

"However, even the best can't do EVERYTHING. For example, I can't work with your fat aft friend in this whole construction business. He doesn't play nice, and keeps fighting Dirt. I'd take command if it was worth my precious time, but since I'm better than that, we figured you'd wanna play instead."

Scrapper would've stood up and shook the seeker in desperation, if he could move a single muscle.

"Is Mixie okay? Is he hurt?"

"I mean, he's okay in terms of not being dead. For now at least. He's making things very difficult, and I'm not sure how long we're gonna put up with-"

"I-I'll get him to calm down!"

Scrapper didn't even let him finish as he exclaimed. Thundercracker raised a brow. Imagine being so weak for someone, that you'd help your enemy, in order to have a shred of hope of rescuing them. It was as sad as it was helpful.

"Very well, let's-"

Thundercracker was cut off again as he turned, noticing the unconscious ninja bot. He raised a brow and pointed at him.

"Hey. What's his malfunction?"

Ratchet gave a grunt in response.

"No clue."

"Aren't you a medic?"

"A medic, not a fraggin' magician. Can't check when I can't move."

"For the love of-alright. You're coming with me to give him an inspection."

Thundercracker opened his comm link, and after boastfully asking for assistance, two other seekers walked in, one orange and one white. The orange one gave a gentle clap at Thundercracker, as if he earned it.

"You did good to call us, Thundercracker! What an absolutely brilliant call!"

Thundercracker's wings gave a light flap in boastful confidence, while the white one rolled his optics. All of his statements were as contradictory as the day was long, but there was one fact that was solid;Sunstorm's ability to kiss any aft was tiring to everyone BUT Thundercracker. Thundercracker pridefully motioned to Ratchet, Scrapper, and Prowl.

"We're taking them to Dirt Boss. Sunstorm, you take the old bag, I'll take the constructicon, and Ramjet, you take the cyber ninja."

"Brilliant choice, Thundercracker."

"Ah yes. Kiss his aft some more. His ego is small enough as it is."

They all obeyed however, hoisting each bot over their shoulders. Thundercracker waited until those two walked in front of him, before shutting the cell. Optimus glanced over at Arcee, who, had it not been for the stasis cuffs, would've been trembling. She was strong, but even the strong needed their partners.

"Arcee?"

Silence. He gulped, before trying again.  
"He's been through much worse. Let's face it, knowing he has you on the line, he'll make quite the fuss. He spent more than a lifetime looking for you. He'll happily do it again."

Arcee didn't reply yet again. Optimus was a good speaker, but little did anyone know, he more often spoke for his own comfort, rather than others. Maybe if he spoke it confidently enough, boldly enough, he'd believe it.

\-----------------

"I told ya to just bring Scrapper, what's with the twink and the old mech?"

They plopped the three of them in front of Dirt Boss, Thundercracker boldly perking up his wings as he spoke.

"Well, we noticed something was amiss with the Cyber ninja, and the medic was unable to examine him. If he's dead, we can salvage him for parts, but I'd rather not soil my claws with a live death."

Dirt Boss gave a shrug, and waved his hand to give permission to proceed. While two of them were focused on making sure no funny business was happening between them during the inspection, Scrapper looked up. Dirt Boss was sitting upon a throne (that was clearly made for Megatron, given the size), with Slipstream sitting at his arm rest, and Skywarp shaking on his other side. Why was he shaking you ask? Because of what container he was holding. For in a glass container, was-

"Kid?"

Ratchet tried to keep his optics focused on Prowl, but the second he heard Scrapper say that, his helm snapped up, to see Sari. She was terrified, but clearly not for herself. Even in danger, she was more worried for them, rather than herself. Ratchet was about to jump up to reach for her, before two blasters were aimed right at his helm. Dirt Boss gave a light chuckle.

"Aye. Inspection, doc bot. Long as y'all play nice, little fleshlings gonna be fine. Trust me, Skywarp is very gentle."

Skywarp looked as though he was going to pass out just from looking at her. Ratchet slowly got back onto his knees to inspect Prowl. Dirt Boss cleared his vocal processor.

"So, Scrappy. Ya decided to help me with the project after all?"

One of the seekers un did his stasis cuffs, and Scrapper rubbed his wrists, glaring up at Dirt Boss.

"Let me see Mix first. I rather be rustin' than help you hurt him."

"Fine, fine."

Dirt Boss snapped his servos, and Scrapper turned to an opening door. Mix. Scrapper didn't think before suddenly running towards him. Dirt Boss motioned for everyone to lower their weaponry, allowing Scrapper to hold onto Mix as tightly as he could. Dirt Boss was letting him have some leash room, at least for now. Scrapper held onto Mix's face, desperately trying to ignore that damn red device in his forehead. What he'd give to be able to just pluck it free.

"Mix! God's sake Mix you're okay, I didn't know if he hurt you, or if you were scared, or if you were okay on fuel or-"

Mix held onto the hands holding his face, successfully shutting him up.

"Aye. Easy. I'm okay. Doin' work for free, which I hate, but I'm alright. I'm just happy you're okay. I was givin' the mech a rough time, trust me."

Scrapper chuckled, practically shaking in relief. Mix was okay. A bit scuffed in paint, but nothing he can't fix once he's home. He'll fix him up, they'll watch tv, and drink until the sunset. If they get home. Mix suddenly lifted Scrapper off the floor, arms practically creaking his metal as he kept him in place, turning him to face Dirt Boss. He gave a light shrug.

"So. He's still all fine and fat, you can see. Now, ya gonna keep it that way and help?"

Scrapper's hands maybe in a bind, but Mix was holding him. Mix needed his help. He gave a nod.

"I...I left Mixie to get hurt once. I'm not leaving him again."

"Wait, Scraps, has that...still been bugging you?"

Before Scrapper could respond (Mix's voice sounded genuinely concerned, and Scrapper desperately wanted to jump at the possibility of attending to this emotional moment), he was plopped onto the floor.

"Alright, perfect. Doll, you check up on the little doctor's appointment, lemme know what's happenin'"

Dirt Boss held onto her chin and pecked her lips, hopping off his throne to escort the building bots to the mentioned machine. Once they disappeared, Ratchet raised a brow at Slipstream.

"I...didn't think he was your type, honestly."  
"He's not. The power is. Trust me, sharing a berth with him is absolute agony. Speaking of agony, I'm dying to know, what's the issue with long legs?"

Ratchet gave a light shrug.

"He's fine. He just forced himself into a stasis like condition."

"Stasis like?"

"Well his audials are workin', so he's conscious, but not fully. It's not somethin' that demands much worry."

"Damn. Was hoping to make some accessories out of him. Oh well. Sunstorm, Thundercracker, take these two back to their cells. Skywarp, go give my 'sweet spark',"

She pronounced that word the same way one would say 'tapeworm', before continuing.

"The news. I'm going to flush out my systems."

Skywarp was the only one who apparently had issues with this command, looking between Sari and Slipstream.  
"B-but I'm holding the fleshie! Moving with it could be dangerous a-and-"

"Oh I'll watch it for you."

"Y...you will?"

Skywarp looked giddy, wings flapping a million miles an hour.

"You will?! Oh thank you! Oh I was so nervous because it's so squishy and soft and kinda gross-"

Slipstream leaned over, hands on her hips, and promptly cut him off.

"I'll watch it for you, and you can tell Dirt Boss you made his little fem handle something so gross. Go on, hand it over and explain why you're being so mean to me."

She held out her hands, and of course, Skywarp pulled the jar towards himself. Much as the fleshie grossed him the frag out, it was still far better than dealing with Dirt Boss and his foul temper.

"I...uhm...I'll handle the...creature. And the message. You just...do your own thing, Slipstream."

"Smart mech."

She patted his cheek a bit aggressively, before walking off, letting Skywarp gulp, and follow after Dirt Boss, letting the other two handle transporting them back to their cell.  
\----------------------

"Woah. This is a hell of a machine. And we've made spacebridges."

"Hey, I like keeping you boys in work."

Dirt Boss took a gander at the machine before them. It was incomplete, sure, but it was quite the beauty so far. It was essentially a round table of individual pods, surrounding a large system in the middle, looking much like an engine, a door off to the side, and a screen hooked up to it all. Said screen was on upon Scrapper tapping the screen, and he scowled.

"Yeah, thing definitely ain't put together right. It's a MESS."

"Exactly. Seekers dunno SLAG about technology. Stupid, the lot of 'em. You have no idea how long the coding alone took.”

"The fact that you GOT that together is amazing."

Scrapper scrolled through the screen, studying the coding. While he wasn't a coding sort of mech, he could gather a LOT from the data presented on the monitor. Apparently, what was missing was the essentials to said machine. To put it in terms that even Snarl would understand, they needed to fix the main power source, the seal on the pods, and the part that scanned exactly what needed to be cloned. A lot to fix, and not a lot of time.

“Yeah, we could fix these parts. I dunno how long it’ll take exactly, but it shouldn’t be a-”

“Dirt Boss! Dirt Boss!”

They all turned upon Skywarp walking in, nervous and uncomfortable as ever. Dirt Boss huffed.

“Aye, what are you doing here?”

“Slipstream sent me in! She wanted me to tell you the ninja bot is fine.”

“Seems like something more fitted for a comm call, but fine-”

Dirt Boss sighed, before smacking the seeker on the shoulder, making him yelp.

“Will you STOP the shaking? Swear to primus ya makin’ ME all jumpy. It's a FLESHIE, ya act like it's a scraplet.”

“S-sorry! It just keeps looking at me! It's freaky!”

Skywarp looked through the jar, when Sari stuck her tongue out at him, and upon seeing the wet, fleshie limb, Skywarp screamed, and covered his face in defense. This caused him to let the jar go, and crash right onto the floor, breaking upon contact. Sari’s eyes looked around wildly, and upon seeing that she was free, started up her jetpack. Dirt Boss swore, and dived after her, narrowly missing. Mix’s body made an attempt to grab for her as well, but thankfully the reaction was delayed, giving Sari just the chance to bolt out of the room. Dirt Boss gave another swear, and smacked the seeker on the back, pointing to where the kid just left.

“Ya fraggin’ dingbat! Go GET!”

The seeker hesitated, before transforming, and following. Dirt Boss glared at Scrapper and Mix.

“You two, get to work. I’m gonna make sure that thing STAYS confined.”

Mix turned and started on the said machine, while Scrapper hesitated at the sight. Maybe he could-

“Scrapper.”

He looked down at Dirt Boss, who jabbed a servo in his direction.

“I’m not gonna watch you both how I wanted to. But this don’t mean you get to try some funny business. Don’t matter how far I am, don’t even matter if ya can see me. Mix does what I tell him to, and if you give a frag about his fat aft, ya gonna play nice, and get to work. Got it?”

Scrapper gave a slight nod, then watched as Dirt Boss walked away. For someone who walked like a potato, he was pretty damn intimidating. Scrapper let the silence fill the room, before he turned, walking right next to Mix, and began helping him with the machine. Upon fixing the seal on a part of the machine, Scrapper finally spoke.

“Mix?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you..okay?”

“Ah nah, just fuckin’ mind controlled and shit, I'm totally great.”

Mix was smiling despite the content of his words, and Scrapper lightly smacked his shoulder.

“I meant if he hurt you too much. I didn’t get a good look at you, couldn’t tell if you were honestly okay.”

“Nah, I’m good. Stab at my pride, given how that chicken nugget decked me in the face, but I’m okay. Funny though, ya aft finally wanting a look at this the second a mech got his hooks in me. That’s real fucked, Scraps.”

For some reason, that caused Scrapper to fumble with one of his tools, dropping it onto the stone floor. Even though he was being forced to work, Mix pulled away, noticing that Scrapper was not only smiling, but tearing the hell up. Scrapper choked as he forced himself to speak.

“You dumbass. I saw you weren’t there, and I was so worried, and here you are, cracking fucking jokes like nothin’ is the matter.”

“And here ya are, bawlin’ like a damn baby.”

Mix’s body continued to work, but his gaze was still on the other, catching him practically leaping forward to hold onto his side in an embrace.

“Mix. I was...so scared I lost you. Again. I was so worried I ended up leaving you again, and so fucking terrified that I'd never know what'd happened to you, I couldn’t handle doing the same fucking thing to you again-”

“Hey hey hey, ease up.”

Mix grunted as he forced one of his hands away, holding onto the other's shoulder, other hand doing whatever bidding Dirt Boss was commanding it to.

“Look, this is like, the WORST time for this to happen, but ya know I hate seein’ ya lose ya head. I didn’t know that sorta thing still bugged ya.”

“Course it did. It’s YOU. I care about YOU, ya big, big..”

Scrapper couldn’t even finish his insult as he held onto the other tight enough to practically pop him open like a tin can. Mix wasn’t as emotionally open as his friend here, but sometimes, ya had to do things that pushed you out of your comfort zone, just to push stuff ahead. Focusing on the task ahead, trying to ignore the fact that he was putting his heart on his sleeve, Mix sighed.

“Scraps. It’s fine, honest. We were younger, hell of a lot more dumber, no clue what we were doin’ back then. I don’t blame you, I understand why ya did it, and not once have I been mad at ya for it. We can talk about this, if we make it out of this. So, I need ya to just push this aside, for once, and just, focus on this, okay?”

Scrapper was always the one to be open with his emotions, and Mix was always the one to push stuff aside. Pushing these instincts aside was a lot on both of them, but Mix was willing to do what it took. Whatever it took for his Scrapper, who refused to let go of him. He had to pull out the big guns for this. Mix sighed, and with his somewhat free hand, cupped the side of his face. It was a bit of an awkward position, one half of him working on some machine that could kill them all, while his other half was trying to be emotionally open for once in his goddamn life. But that was nothing compared to the awkwardness of his words.

“I need ya to help me, okay? I...need ya to be a happy Scrappy, got it?”

It was the first time he gave Scrapper the nickname (at least right to his face, bots like Ratchet were quite familiar with the dumb as fuck nickname), and the affect was immediate. His face lit up like a damn christmas light, and Mix knew his cheeks did the exact same thing.

“Did. Did you just-”

“Don’t bring it up. Literally ever again.”

“Bullshit, we are SO talking about this once we get back home.”

That is. IF they got home.  
\------------------------

"I-I said I was sorry boss-"

"You're gonna be REALLY damn sorry if you don't shut it!"

Dirt Boss grumbled as he guided the seekers down the steps into the cloning room, each one carrying a prisoner (minus Slipstream of course, she was above carrying such trash. Especially given that she was the boss's fem). Scrapper turned to look at everyone, trying not to have his spark hurt at the sight of Arcee. Arcee didn't deserve this, being as sweet and as kind as she was. None of them deserved this really, and Scrapper couldn't help but recall all the moments Mix and him had with the team. Scrapper would help Optimus keep his paint polished on his rare off days, play with Snarl alongside Bulkhead, and talk about flowers with Prowl. Mix often baked alongside Arcee, yelled at Bumblebee for doing stupid shit, and even bickered with Ratchet, just for the sake of doing so. Scrapper knew that regardless of what would happen, he would at least have those memories to hang onto. He was apparently thinking of this too intently, given how Dirt Boss kicked him in his shin.

"Aye, I asked you a question, you hoe."

"S-Sorry, spacing out. What'd ya say?"

"I SAID, is the damn thing ready?"

Scrapper turned to Mix, who after a minute more of work, gave the thumbs up. Dirt Boss pushed them to the side to fiddle with the monitor, and Scrapper looked around at the team.

"You didn't get Sari?"

Optimus's audial fins perked up, and his optic's scanned the area.

"Wait, you said you were gonna keep Sari safe, where is-"

"Oh shut it!"

Thundercracker exclaimed, kicking Optimus on his side. His wings stood to attention as he praddled on.

"She unfortunately escaped us, because some wuss a tron got spooked, and broke her containment. Instead of being terminated now, she'll just have to face our legion of superior beings! A foolish decision on her part, but no matter."

"Aye blabbermouth, ya wanna talk so much, go talk into the machine, it's ready to be cloned."

Dirt Boss pressed some buttons, and pointed to the now open door. Thundercracker huffed, arms folded in stubborn pride.

"Clones of ME?! While I agree we should have the best statistics of success using ME to copy, I REFUSE to share my PEAK CNA with some lab rat! Send the failure!"

Thundercracker pointed at Skywarp, who whimpered, and shrunk in place.

"I-I don't wanna go in there! I'm claustrophobic! I just wanna go home and have some cookies, I don't need all this pressure!"

"Oh for frags sake, I'LL do it! Five mechs here, and I'M the only one with ball bearings!"

Slipstream threw her arms in exasperation, and stepped into the pod, hands on her hips. She could hear Sunstorm spew some flattery, but it was white noise at this point. Dirtboss chuckled as he adjusted the settings.

"Hey, if this works, I can replace ya the next time you give me lip."  
"Can't very well give lip to something fun sized now CAN I, dear?"

Bumblebee gave a whoop, wishing he had the cuffs off purely to clap.

"Someone get some jelly, Dirt Boss just got TOASTED."

Dirt Boss grumbled, shutting the pod doors. Much as he loved fragging her, she had some attitude, and smiled at other mechs far too much for his liking. He started it up, and with a flash of light, with a loud hum, the machine started. It took the machine only a minute from start to finish, but for everyone in the room, it felt like an eternity. The machine died down, and the doors parted, letting out steam, and two fems. They looked at each other suspiciously, before looking at Dirt Boss.

"Well, it semi worked. It doesn't seem like it can talk, must've been a glitch in the voice modifications."

"Well slag, I like her already."

After returning the gesture of the bird to his lady love, he turned to team prime. What was the point of winning if you couldn't rub everyone's noses in it?

"Ya see, I've pretty much won. Once I get billions of these idiots, you, this earth, this UNIVERSE, is gonna be mine. Ya mooks are gonna start looking up to ME, and there ain't nothin' ya gonna do about it. Any last words, auto punks?"

"I have a few, if I may."

Everyone's optics went to Prowl. He wasn't able to move of course, but his optics were fully online. Dirt Boss gave a bark of laughter.

"Ha! Ya should've STAYED offline, dumbaft. Least then, ya wouldn't be able to feel the pain imma put you through. But, since I feel sorry for ya, I'll let ya say whatever stupid hifu shit ya wanna say."

"One, it's 'haiku', not 'hifu'. And two, it's really a question. Do you know where oil comes from?"

Everyone blinked, looking confused. Mix moved what little he could to lean into Scrapper's audial. If he was gonna die, he was gonna die at Scrapper's side, being a snarky asshole.

"Think he's a cup of tea shy of a full bar..."

Dirt Boss seemed to be thinking the same thing, but hey, he was gonna die, why not indulge him?  
"Yeah. Oil comes from dead organisms. In earth's case, dinosaurs and shit."

"Do you like dinosaurs?"

"Look I dunno what hippy dippy slag ya pullin', but I'm tired of-"

That was when everyone stopped, hearing a loud 'thud' like noise. Then another. Then another. Dirt Boss glared at Prowl, before turning his gaze to Sunstorm.

"You, go see what that noise is, report back once ya find it."

"Wonderful idea master, glorious idea! A genius-"

"GO."

Sunstorm leapt up in surprise, before transforming, and leaving, heading right for the direction of the sound. The thud happened again, and again, and again. Everyone looked around, completely puzzled. Dirt Boss was about to say frag it, and smack the cloning machine button again, before there was a scream down the corridor. Skywarp's wings gave a flutter in recognition.

"That was Sunstorm-"

Suddenly the room was coated in smoke, and a loud crash filled the room. As the dust parted, all were met with the sight of Sari, riding on the back of Snarl, as well as Swoop, ball and chain at the ready. Sari parted her mask, giving everyone a wave.

"You guys don't mind if I bring plus two to this party, right?"

To say all hell was unleashed, was putting it lightly. Seeker going against dinobot, flames roaring this way and that, bots somehow being freed from their stasis cuffs. And yet, no matter how many fists flew, no matter how much screaming filled the room, all Scrapper could do, was focus on Mix. Mix of course, was forced into battle, many hesitating to defend themselves against him. Scrapper definitely being the worst case. Scrapper didn't care about the seekers, punching or kicking them away from him, just to get them off and away from his goal;Mixie. Scrapper kept trying to get his hands on him, only to be pushed off by Mix. It was pandemonium, nonsensical, unintelligible. To describe it in purely words was both impossible, and irrelevant. All that mattered was that it came to a head, when Mix suddenly grabbed for Sari, catching her in his mitts. Everyone froze, as if someone hit the pause button. Dirt Boss, just short of being axed by Optimus, chuckled. Obviously, no one stopped him as he walked to Mixmaster, gesturing to the struggling Sari.

"You know. You all had me goin'. I thought, ya know, for a second, I might lose. But then, ya just had to absolutely love ya little fleshie friend."

Mix, to no will of his own, gave Sari a squeeze, making her cry out in pain. Optimus dropped his axe, throwing his hands in the air.

"Just. Don't hurt her. Everyone, stand down."

Bumblebee gestured to Slipstream, who had her weapon pointed at his face (in fairness, he was returning the favor).

"W-I have a weapon pointed AT me?!"

"And THEY have Sari in a life threatening situation. We can find a way out of this somehow, but Sari can't get out of being hurt."

The team hesitated, before they obeyed, hands in the air (aside from Ratchet, who had his hands supporting Arcee. The fighting took a lot out of her, and she was barely strong enough for her to stand on her own two pedes). Mixmaster chuckled, watching the way Mix squeezed her still. Mix tried to fight against it, really he did.

"Kid I'm sorry, I'm NOT doing this!"

"I-I know, Mix, I just-aah!!!"

Sari exclaimed in pain, definitely feeling something hurting way more than it should've. Scrapper took a step closer, only for Mix to aim his cement arm at him. Scrapper didn't stop, taking a slower step towards him.

"Dirt Boss, why don't we just. Calm down for a minute. Let's not get a short temper-"

"You CAN it!"

Dirt Boss exclaimed, forcing Mix to squeeze even tighter, nearly making her face turn purple. It was jarring for Scrapper, to see the scared, worried, honest face of Mix, with the angry, bitter, violent look of Dirt Boss right behind him. Dirt Boss kept going, servo so close to the machine, ready to spawn Primus knows how many seeker clones.

"I'm TIRED of being pushed around. Tired of not being taken seriously. I'm tired of being treated like I aint anythin'. Ya gonna take me SERIOUS now, whether ya like it or not! Not you, not ya stupid boytoy is gonna stop me! NO one is!"

"HE'S NOT A BOYTOY!!"

Dirt Boss shut himself up, not quite expecting Scrapper to roar at him in such a way. Scrapper was usually a fun, chill mech, so for him to announce this almost violently, was just what he needed to give himself an audience. Scrapper took a step forward, very, very slowly.

"Mix is...Mix is everythin' for me. He's my best friend, he's my roommate, he's my business partner, he's the mech who laughs with me, and I...I can't let ya take him."

"And how are ya gonna stop me?"

"He can't. But I CAN!"

Sari yelled, finally freeing her arm, bringing out her blade, and slicing. Next thing everyone knew, the drill fell to the floor, cut in half. Mix immediately loosened his grip, letting Sari gasp and finally taking in more air. Mix quickly gave her to Scrapper, who brought her closer to his gaze.

"Kiddo, you okay?"

"F-fine. Hoo, I just remembered how much I love air. Good shit, who needs drugs?"

"Dirt Boss, after I get my fist up his aft."

Mix smashed his fists together, glaring down at Dirt Boss, slowly approaching him.

"You controlled me. Made me do free work. Made me hurt the kid. Made me hurt SCRAPPER. Do ya have any IDEA how much ya fragged up? You don't make me hurt MY Scrappy-"

"Aww!"

Scrapper held one hand over his spark, practically melting on the spot. Sure, Mix had said 'Scrappy', and even got so far as to saying 'my bro', but never had he gone so far to say 'my Scrappy'. Mix seemed to notice this too, turning to look at Scrapper. It took two kliks for him to realize, but when he did, his face burned, and steam practically exploded out of his audials.

"Hey, no, stop that."

"But you said 'MY Scrappy!' That was cute!"

"Aye, I ain't do NO cute shit-"

"Will you two stop being gay and PUNCH THE BAD GUY?!"

"Yeah, right, that, none of this mushy shit."

Mix was going to deal with the hole he just buried later. He was going to follow Bumblebee's words, when Dirt Boss motioned to his hand, just hovering over the controls. Either could move, either could take but a klik to make a choice. Dirt Boss and Mix glared at each other, servos lightly twitching on both ends. Mix's optics drifted to Slipstream, who stood right behind him. Even if he punched the little tin can straight till next week, no way he'd be fast enough to beat Slipstream. One push, and billions of pests would flood in. Everyone was at a standstill, wondering just what would trigger all of their fates. That was when Dirt Boss moved, and by instinct, Mix brought his fist right to his face.  
It was a complete domino effect. Dirt Boss was sent across the room, Slipstream took a shot, barely missing Mix, and the machine blared on. All the focus went to the machine, and Sunstorm helped Dirt Boss up, who couldn't help but grin as they all watched the machine in disbelief.

"You lost, ya chumps. You better start getting used to ME being the top dog here."

All the seekers brought forth their weapons, aimed right at Mixmaster. All was locked into place. That is, until Dirt Boss saw Swoop put away his weapon, and Snarl laid down low. Both went to the floor, as if in respect. Dirt Boss chuckled, clearly gloating.

"Pfft. Even ya pets know when they're beaten."

"They aren't submitting. They're...ducking."

Prowl's words were proven immediately, for the second he finished his sentence, a giant, metal force collided with the seekers, AND Dirt Boss. The creature rose its head as it's pedes collided with Sunstorm, forcing a scream of pain from the seeker. A roar echoed throughout the room, powerful, commanding.

"ME GRIMLOCK, DESTROY!!!!"

Scrapper wanted to appreciate his dino buddy, really he did. But he glanced at the machine, and saw just how close it was to finishing its batches of clones. He had to dismantle the machine, and he had to do it right, less this place be sent to kingdom come. Scrapper shoved Sari into Mix's hands, and held onto his shoulders.

"I'm going to go dismantle the machine before it finishes. You need to get Sari, Arcee, and everyone else out of here."

"W-what? I'm NOT leaving you b-"

Mix didn't get to finish.  
Hundred thousand and sixteen.

When Scrapper parted, smiling at his wide eyed, dazed partner, he knew he was doing the right thing.

"Mix. Go. You forgave me when I left you, I'll forgive you, especially to help them. Go."

Mix took a klik, before nodding. 

"Sorry I gotta do this kid, I need both hands. Stay put till I say."

He quickly stuffed Sari in one of his pockets, and dashed for the exit, sweeping Arcee off of her pedes and into his arms. He nodded at the team.

"Let's go! These two got it!"

"But Scraps-"

"MOVE YA AFT, PRIME!"

Optimus wanted to have a defense, but ultimately, grabbed his axe, and corralled them out of the cave. Mix too, wanted an excuse to stay and fight. But as he bumped into Snarl, trying to push him into the proper direction like he was cattle, he realized he had no choice. Afterall.

He was never good at telling Scrapper no.

\-------------------------

Wires. Chords. Cables. Scrapper panicked as he tried to recall just where everything was. There were lights, sounds, even shaking, that was distracting him. He just knew he had to do this, for everyone he loved and cared for. 

"Okay, easy, relax. Where is the wire that connects to the...ah, there!"

He adjusted a few cables, unplugged a few parts. So close, he just had to-

"You."

Scrapper looked past the machinery, at Dirt Boss. Dirt Boss was barely able to stand on his own two pedes, body coated in energon.

"Dirt Boss. It's over."

"No. No the frag it ain't. Not if I have anything to say about it."

Dirt Boss lifted his hand up, about to aim for Scrapper's forehead, before the quarrel behind them caused Dirt Boss to fall onto his knees, Grimlock's tail knocking him to the floor. Dirt Boss's drill missed its target, and went right into the machine's engine. Suddenly, all went black, silent.

\---------------------------

"Is that everyone?"

"I-I think so?"

Optimus did a helm count. Mixmaster, Bumblebee, Ratchet, Arcee, Prowl, Swoop, and Snarl. The only one that was left was-

Suddenly there was a loud explosion behind them, rocks flying this way and that as the smoke and shrapnel landed around them. Mixmaster stared off into a space, scared, TERRIFIED to turn around. His optic's went wide, his mouth hung open. His voice was soft, barely audible.

"Scrapper."

Mixmaster put Arcee down, and bolted towards the wreckage, running as fast as his body would physically allow. Without thinking, he began pulling rock after rock to the side. He was frantic, throwing them to the side, unaware as to where each stone went. His fury only ceased (albeit temporarily) as he saw Snarl transform, and start to help. Then Swoop. Then Optimus. Bumblebee, Bulkhead, Ratchet, Prowl, and even poor, weak Arcee lent a hand. Mixmaster continued, furiously. He could feel tears stream down his face, and he hated it. He felt so weak, so helpless, so HURT without his Scrapper. 

"Scrapper! Scrapper! You better FUCKING answer me!!"

He screamed, voice cracking towards the end. How could he have listened to him? How could he have left him, alone and no doubt terrified? He was no better than Scrapper was back then. He was worse. Especially since he knew just how much he l-

"Over here, I got movement!"

Mixmaster bolted to where Bulkhead was, helping him move boulders and metal. There was movement, before Grimlock lifted his helm slowly, lightly groaning.

"Ow...me Grimlock have bad headache…"

"Grimlock!! Where's Scrapper?!"  
"Under Grimlock. Thing make big explode, and cave fall apart. Grimlock wanted to stop big boulders!"

Grimlock grunted as he carefully moved, parting all the rubble, and revealing Scrapper. He was dinged up, sprawled amongst the dirt and machine parts. Mix hesitated, more in relief that he ended up finding him, before he dived down at him, giving him a firm shake. Nothing.

"Scrapper. Scrapper. Get up. Scrapper, talk to me!"

Mix shook him, smacked his cheek, poked and prodded, for who knew how long. Nothing. Mixmaster felt his hands tremble as he looked down at him, and he swore he couldn't breathe. Swore his body didn’t want to work. He scooped him up in his arms, holding him to his chest, squeezing him as tight as he could without breaking him.

"I'm...sorry. I'm so sorry. I left you. I shouldn't have done what you said. I should've pulled you outta there, should've worried about YOU. You cared so goddamn much, and that hurt you. I...walked in there, wantin' to protect you. A-and you….you got hurt. You got hurt, and I hate my damn self for it...because I love you. I love you so goddamn much. I loved seein' ya smile when I got up in the morning, I loved you smilin' when you ate my pancakes, I loved drinking with you, I loved LOOKING at you. I LOVED YOU DAMMIT."

Mix hated how he felt. Hated how he felt like sitting here, rusting away forever. That was when he heard a gravelly, weak voice in his audial.

"N-no homo, bro."

Mixmaster pulled away from the hug, holding his shoulders as he gawked at him. Scrapper's optics looked at him, weak, but oh so happy.

"You're...okay?"

"Yeah. K-kinda. You know ya probably should've let Ratchet see me first."

Ratchet nodded.

"I mean he's got a point. Ya sorta jumped the gun right into the theatrics. I saw his servo move, kinda figured he was still kickin'"

"And you just LET me do that?!"

"One, ya probably would've pushed me away. Two, let's face it, you guys were long overdue."

Mix would've chewed him out, had Scrapper not pulled him close to him.  
Hundred thousand and seventeen.

Ratchet gave a small sigh, helping Arcee to her pedes.

"Ah, guess we could give these two a minute. Doesn't look like they're hurting TOO badly."

"I might, If I gotta watch this more."

Sari piped up, poking her helm through his pocket. Optimus carefully (didn't want to ruin a tender moment after all) plucked her out, holding her in his hands.

"Good job, Sari. It's thanks to you bringing the dinobots here that saved the day."

Sari shrugged.

"Hey, Swoop and Snarl were my idea, but Grimlock wasn't. He wasn't there when I was."

Optimus raised a brow.

"Then how did-"

"That would be me."

Prowl piped up, needing the help of Bulkhead to stand upright.

"I used an old Cyber ninja technique to communicate through to Grimlock, asking for his help. It put me out of commission for a while, but I got through to him."

Grimlock transformed, arms folded across his chest in pride.

"Me Grimlock heard ninja bot begging. Grimlock be nice and follow. Make sense, Grimlock biggest, STRONGEST Dinobot!"

"Funny. I recalled you sounding worried, rather than boastful."

Prowl chuckled, and Grimlock grumbled, cheeks turning a darker shade.

"Grimlock worried over COOKIES bots make! Not bots!"

"And I'M worried imma spew my bolts if these gaywads keep smoochin'"

Bumblebee winced, watching them get just a BIT too into it. Thankfully they didn't let it get to open panels, before Mix suddenly stood up, holding Scrapper bridal style. Optimus smiled, and placed Sari carefully on his shoulder.

"Bumblebee, Bulkhead. You two dig around, cuff up our dirty cons. We're getting everyone into medbay."

"Gotcha boss bot."

Optimus took Prowl out of Bulkhead's hands, and began leading them all back to base. Scrapper leaned himself up, pecking Mix right on the side of his face. Mix looked down at him, nearly wanting to smooch him up when he saw those flushed cheeks, and that dumb grin of his.

"I uh...wanted to say I love you too, Mixie. So much."

Mix chuckled, practically watching the other melt in his arms. Yep.

That's a happy Scrappy alright.


	5. A Gay Ever After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mix and Scrapper, now being done with all the stress of Dirt boss, now finally get what they've been waiting a LONG time for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check the end notes for some visual references!

"Grimlock, you want some more?"

Scrapper held a plate out to Grimlock. Every one of their friends had gathered to their yard, upon Sari's insistence of a party. Her excuse was that they celebrate the fact that they had been online for five years, so it was a glorified birthday party, honestly. Sari had hung up streamers, Arcee and Mix had made all types of goodies, Bulkhead brought them plenty to drink, and Optimus even let the team come by to celebrate (a day off from him was honestly INCREDIBLY rare for him). It was the perfect summer day for it; not a cloud in the sky, not too hot, and the flowers themselves seemed to be at their full bloom. It was like something out of a storybook, honestly. Grimlock peered over to Scrapper, currently preoccupied with trying to get this stupid party hat off.

"Me Grimlock HATE party hat!! Want it off!"

"Hey, you remember the rules. You can eat all you want, IF you keep the hat on. If you don't want any more cupcakes, that's fine."

Scrapper pretended to walk away, only to hear another whine from the dinobot.

"Fine! Grimlock keep dumb hat! Grimlock get cake now?"

"Grimlock get cake now."

Scrapper chuckled, and lifted the plate up, letting Grimlock have the cupcakes he deserved. Scrapper understood why he’d go through such humiliation, Mix made the BEST carletonite cupcakes. Topped off with bright fluorite frosting, and handmade barium marshmallow toppings, they were as beautiful as they were tasty. Grimlock dove in to take the last cupcake from the tray, when Sari grabbed it, starting to eat to her satisfaction. Being a techno organic made her able to eat both human, and Cybertronian food. Suffice to say, she LOVED Mix’s sweets. Scrapper chuckled at Grimlock’s pouty face, and carefully picked her up, wanting to meet her eyes.

“Would you take a look at you! All dolled up, just for us. I love what you did with your hair.”

“Thank you! I’ve been watching videos online, I learned how to do it ALL by myself!”

“Color me surprised! And the dress?”

“Oh, Arcee made it for me!”

“She made ALL your guy’s clothes?”

“Yep!”

“Wow, tell her I said she did a good job, especially on Prowl’s.”

“Oh he was REALLY into his dress.”

Arcee made the entire team their own clothes. Sari, Arcee, and Prowl all wore dresses, while Bumblebee, Optimus, Bulkhead, and Ratchet all wore bowties. Scrapper wasn’t gonna lie, he felt almost left out in this case. With his free hand, he made a twirling motion with his servo.

“Give me a whirl, lemme see how pretty you are.”

It was no secret that every bot here loved her to bits, and he held no hesitation in giving her a light cheer as she spun around, watching the blue fabric spin about. He chuckled, and carefully put her back down to the ground.

“Look at you, out to go break some sparks. Why don't you do me a favor, see how everyone is doing, imma go check up on Mixie.”

“Gotcha. Be sure not to take too long, you guys have presents to open!”

Scrapper nodded, and made his way inside. Mix pulled a tray out of the oven, turning it off. He turned to Scrapper, handing him the rather large tray. Ratchet had brought over tons of freshly grilled Lithium (even had a nice chalcanthite sauce slathered right on top), and Mix was just warming it up for everyone. Mix raised a brow at Scrapper.

“Why you smiling like that?”

“I dunno. Just...happy I guess. I guess you could say I’m-”

“Don’t you FUCKING dare, I swear to god.”

Scrapper hesitated, just letting Mix stew over it, before a grin cracked his face.

“A happy Scrappy?”

“God DAMMIT I told you not to bring that up! That was ONCE, and your aft still hasn't dropped it!”

“Oh I’m sorry, would you rather I say that I’m YOUR Scrappy?”

Scrapper would have knelt down to really get in his face, to tease him further, when Mix grabbed him by his chin, and shut him right up.

Nine hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred ninety-five.

It was so quick, so simple of an action. One that made Mix lightly push away from him once it was over. His face was scrunched up, pouty, adorable.

“Just get the food outta here, yeah? Imma be outside to deal with all of you in a minute.”

“Alright, alright, grumpy wumpy.”

He didn't let Mix get a word in as he slipped out, placing the tray on the table and adding it to the other food there. Arcee had brought a nice dish of Vanadinite, tungsten, blue fluorite (picture it like a fruit salad), and Bumblebee brought (stole, but hey what Optimus didn't know wouldn't hurt him) an icee machine, full of oil, making for a nice cold drink to wash everything down. Speaking of their little team, Prowl tapped on his shoulder, causing Scrapper to turn around.

“Scrapper, I didn't get a chance to talk with you since I got here. Have you been recovering well since the incident?”

“Oh yeah, I’m all good. You and Arcee look a lot better than last I saw ya. You look nice in that dress, by the way.”

“Thank you, I feel as though the colors suit me. That’s another reason why I wanted to talk to you. I couldn't help but notice you’ve been looking at me since I arrived.”

Scrapper, feeling plenty embarrassed, shrunk a little.

“I don't mean it in a weird way, honest I don't-”

Prowl put his hand up in the air, silencing him.

“Please, I understand. I do not feel uncomfortable under your gaze. I’m just saying, I believe it’s okay for you to open one of your presents early.”

Prowl placed a wrapped bundle into Scrapper’s hand, and Scrapper raised a brow. They all should’ve waited until Mix got here, but curiosity got the best of him, and he tore open the package. A black and yellow bowtie, faux knit. To say Scrapper gasped wasn't putting it lightly.

“You guys...did she make this?”

“She did! She had a feeling you’d like it. Would you like me to help you put it on?”

Scrapper nodded furiously, and was barely able to sit still enough for Prowl to tie it onto him. Scrapper looked down, and jumped in place.

“Oh my god. Oh my god I’m literally SO cute right now what the FUCK.”

“Arcee would be happy to know you liked it. Should we go see how Mix feels about his?”

“Mix doesn’t give two actual shits.”

Mix stated, taking a sip of oil as he walked into the situation. Scrapper lightly smacked him with his gift.

“Don’t be rude, Arcee made these. Open it, I’ll hold your cup.”

“Just don’t drink it.”

“No promises.”

Mix rolled his optics, and tore open the wrapping paper. A quilted bowtie, colored in purple and green. Definitely something Mix wasn't used to wearing. He sighed, and looked up at a VERY excited Scrapper.

“How mad would ya be if I said I don't wanna wear it?”

“Super.”

“Ugh. Fine, help me put the damn thing on.”

Prowl obliged, and Scrapper immediately clamped a hand over his mouth, practically melting on the spot.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, you’re like a big, cuddly teddy bear.”

Scrapper cupped his face in his hands, squishing his cheeks. Mix, tolerating it, just grumbled. The fact that his nads were granted mercy, was PURELY because this party was for the both of them.

“So you think Mix is adorable?”

“YES? What kind of question is-”

That was when Snarl sat right in front of him, glossa hanging out, and bowtie around his neck. Scrapper let out a sound akin to a squeal, and knelt down to him, cupping his big dino face.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, my baby, oh my god.”

“Scrapper are you...crying?”

“He’s just so beautiful Mixie, he’s a big ol’ gentleman! It looks like he’s gonna ask me to prom, I can't!”

Scrapper sniffed, trying to muffle his tears with one hand, and petting Snarl with the other. Mix tried to look annoyed, but damn his Scrapper was stupidly cute. He nudged at him.

“Look, why don't you take your ‘baby’, and follow me, we got gifts to open.”

“Snarl IS my gift!”

Grimlock grumbled, transforming into robot mode.

“Grimlock want his present opened now!”

“Ah, you got us something, huh big guy?”

Grimlock nodded as Mix helped Scrapper to a seat (it was so hard to see past tears), soon to be surrounded by the rest of the team. Grimlock reached forward, and placed a bundle of leaves onto Mix’s lap. Mix had to peel them apart, only to reveal a pile of various seeds. Scrapper finally composed himself enough to ask the very obvious question.

“What’s all this?”

“Seeds. Grimlock find them on big cliff. Makes yummy fruit, want long bot to add to garden, make easy for Grimlock to eat.”

Scrapper had in fact, started a garden long ago, at the suggestion of Arcee. He had grown mainly flowers, but he supposed he could try to do fruits. Scrapper nodded.

“Thank you, Grimlock, that’s VERY sweet of ya. Whatever fruit we get, it’s all yours.”

Mix raised a brow, sifting through the gift.

“Ah, so it’s a real Scrapper type gift, huh?”

It was Mix more or less joking, so he nearly choked on his oil at the other's response.

“It for BOTH of you! Grimlock know you look at Scrapper when he-”

“Aaaand next gift!”

Mix did NOT want Grimlock to finish whatever sentence he was going on about. Probably wasn't important anyway (it totally wasn't Mix checking Scrapper out when he bent over to tend to his plants). Scrapper handed the gift to Arcee, who had a part of the table cleared for their gifts. Swoop seemed to catch on that that’s where gifts were going, and he added his gift to the pile; a rock that he just threw up. It was the thought that counted, honestly. Sari raised her hands up, clearly wanting to go next.

“My turn, my turn! I found JUST the perfect gift for you guys!”

Scrapper unwrapped his gifts, looking it over. It was a set of paints.

“Paint?”

“Yeah! So you can decorate your bird houses!”

“Oh! That's a cute idea! Thanks kiddo, much appreciated.”

He had in fact, been building little birdhouses for the nearby fauna. He patted her helm (being very careful of her hair of course), and handed Mix his own gift (mainly to have his hands free to pet Snarl).

“A...cookbook?”

“More specifically, a baking book! I know Cybertronian food is way different from human stuff, but I figured you’d like some inspiration!”

“I mean, I don't' bake nothin’, but I appreciate it, kid.”

Scrapper rolled his optics. Mix really was in denial of what he liked. It was cute, while being simultaneously frustrating. Arcee was about to move on to the next gift, when Sari motioned for them to pick her up (she had left her jetpack at home. Not for the outfit’s sake, but because she forgot to charge it the night before. Make no mistake, she wanted to pull off a ‘jetpack/dress’ combo). Scrapper did just that, and they leaned in, showing her they were listening. She stood on her tippy toes, and pecked them both on their cheeks, leaving behind a red kiss mark. She smiled at them, with a look that’d make a spark melt.

“Happy birthday, you guys. We thought, way back when, that you guys were no good. I’ve never been so happy to be wrong.”

It was sweet enough for even Mix to sigh at, rubbing the spot in which she smooched. Scrapper chuckled, and Mix could tell he was genuinely flattered.

“Aw, kid. You’re way too good to us. We appreciate it, really.”

“Hey, careful with being that sweet, ‘lil red. Gonna break some poor guys spark. Or chicks, I ain't gonna talk mess if you prefer carpet.”

Scrapper put Sari down, and smacked Mix on his arm.

“We had a sweet ass moment, and you just HAD to say that.”

“W-hey! I’m TRYING to be supportive! If she's a lesbo, I want her to know I support her!”

Sari seemed to appreciate it, given how she chuckled.

“Bi, but thank you.”

“Bye? Where you going?”

Everyone had to take a collective minute to recover from the blast of sheer stupidity, before Prowl decided to just cut it off, giving his own gifts. Scrapper was first. He unwrapped the package, and pulled out a small box. As he opened it, Prowl explained.

“You mentioned something about how much you would've loved to capture certain moments, so I got you a polaroid. You can get your pictures immediately, keep them in a book somewhere. It’s good to have memories.”

“Aw, thanks Prowler! This is nice!”

Scrapper fiddled with it for a moment, before deciding to figure it out later. Mix gave his gift a light shake, and opened it. It was a collection of jars, each having an assortment of powders.

“They’re different powdered minerals, fitting for seasoning. I grinded them myself, saved you the trouble.”

“Seems like a hella effort for just me, but hey, nice of ya, Prowler.”

It was Bulkhead’s turn, and he was clearly ecstatic. He handed them their gifts simultaneously, and both raised their brows. Scrapper tried to tiptoe around it, but Mix just came right out with it.

“Bulk, the hell is this?”

“It’s your own autobot badge! I painted this just for you guys!”

“Doesn't look like your guys’s.”

“Well, we didn't get a chance to ask Sentinel for official badges, but I wanted you guys to feel included! You’re one of us, you deserve to feel like it!”

Mix shrugged. He already felt like a part of the team, but it clearly meant the world to Scrapper, who immediately put it onto his chest. Mix rolled his optics and put it on. In a weird way, it felt good. Optimus chuckled as he joined in. 

“I hope it’s alright that I have my turn. It’s surprisingly difficult to find the right gift for you guys, given how many others bought something for you two. Collaboration on this front has been...well,”

“Pain in the ass?”

Mix didn't hate Optimus by any means, but the mech needed to loosen up, maybe get laid or something. Optimus cleared his vocal processor, nodding.

“Yes, a pain. I did put in the effort though, genuinely. You two have shown to me that you’re both a part of us. I see more unity amongst us all, than most of the elite of forces. To say I’m proud of you two is putting it very lightly."

"...is our gift a speech?"

"It...was a PART of it yes."

Scrapper gave Mix that classic 'please behave' look. Scrapper would never actually get mad AT him, but he was more akin to social situations than he was. Apparently he was 'inappropriate' or whatever. Optimus sighed, and from behind a table, pushed a box forward into view. He seemed hesitant, but the guy had a soft spot.

"Last we faced Megatron, we had found his stash of oil. I pulled some strings with some authorities back on Cybertron, and against my better judgement, decided to let you two have what was left. It's TECHNICALLY evidence, but nothing they won't miss too badly. Least, that's what I'm telling myself to be okay with this."

Mix and Scrapper were different from one another, but they both LOVED oil. Even more so, Megatron's brand of oil. Mix wasted no time in tearing off the lid, and pulling out a barrel.

"You guys can just go home, you can't beat this. Call me a wall, because I'm about to get PLASTERED."

"Mix, I'm down for getting drunk, really I am, but come on, we got other gifts."

Mix practically begged the other to ditch this party for the sake of getting wasted, but he knew that look. He put the barrel back, and kissed the box, almost mournfully.

"I'll miss you, beautiful."

"Oh for Primus sake."

Ratchet scoffed. He was already in a grumpy mood, being out here in the heat, in this bowtie, being forced to do so much social interaction. It sucked. The only reason he was here was because he had something important to do (that, and Arcee and Scrapper were unleashing a reign of 'behave yourself' looks). Ratchet stepped forward, and practically smacked his gift into Scrapper's hand.

"Here, open it. I'm feeling my processor ache dealing with you two."

"A...med kit?"

"Yeah, noticed you two didn't have one in your house. I gave it to you because there is disinfectant in there, and I'm pretty sure Mix would chug it if he had it."

Mix opened his mouth to argue, only to shrug. Dude had a fair point. Mix got his own gift, much lighter than the previous one. 

"Twenty bucks says it's a piece of paper that says 'dumbfuck' on it."

"I was tempted, but this damn harpy kept yacking about how that wasn't appropriate. Didn't understand it."

Mix was about to comment further, before he unwrapped it. It was a bumper sticker. It was a tacky gift for most, but it really struck a chord with Mix. The sticker read "'son of a medical professional, but still dumb as hell'".  
Arcee was about to comment on just how rude that was, up until she heard a light hiccup from Mix. He covered his mouth in his palm, and he was slightly shaking. Everyone looked a bit uncomfortable, given that it was VERY difficult to make someone like Mix upset. Scrapper put his hand on Mix's shoulder.

"Mixie? You okay?"

"I'm...good. I'm good. Just uh...kinda feels like you're calling me your son or somethin' weird like that-"

"I am. You two are actual idiots, you in particular. We end up taking so much responsibility for your afts, me especially, might as well slap a damn title on it."

Mix muffled his cry in his hand, nearly doubling over. Oh his poor, dumb spark was killing him. He heard Scrapper chuckle next him, and he knew the EXACT face he was making. Ratchet cleared his vocal processor.

"You uh...need me to look him over? He looks like he's dying."

"I'm good, pops."

That somehow made it worse for himself as he held onto Scrapper, him being the only thing keeping him from falling right onto the ground below. Arcee placed her hand on his shoulder, and the crazy bitch only made it worse.

"I...suppose that makes me your mother, in a sense."

"Oooh Scraps, I'm a little BITCH-"

He allowed himself to cry loudly onto his palm, and Scrapper chuckled yet again. Damn assholes, making him feel all special and shit. Bumblebee’s loud scoff was apparently just enough to knock him out of his moment, as he sucked it up to glare at Bumblebee.

"Aye, don't you act like you even GOT us anythin', ya bee bastard."

Bumblebee opened his mouth in protest, only to wince. Optimus glared down at him, audials laid back in irritation.

"I TOLD you to pick up something. I even got you money to try to buy something, what did you do with it?"

"Well, remember those slick rims I got yesterday?"

"Bumblebee."

Optimus groaned, rubbing his forehead. He looked at the birthday couple apologetically.

"I apologize. Consider my gift coming from me and Bumblebee."

Mix, wiping his face in hopes of recovering whatever dignity was left, piped up at recalling the gift the little Prime gave them.

"Does...that mean we can get fucked up now?"

He looked at Scrapper for permission, and he nodded.

"Bro, let's get absolutely PLOWED."

\-----------------------

The best gifts were something that was worth sharing. This is a saying that eluded Scrapper and Mix, given that, with no help from ANYONE else, they completely drank every last drop of oil from that crate. No one really stopped them, and they were grateful for it. The sun had started to dip into the horizon, bathing the scene in an orange, red hue. The shrinking sun did nothing to cease the fun however; Arcee was still dancing with Ratchet (apart from slow dancing, he was pretty left footed, not that she seemed to care), Bulkhead was still petting Grimlock and Swoop, Optimus was enjoying the ‘fruit salad’ alongside the sunset, and Bumblebee and Sari were debating which song to play next over the speakers. The birthday boys sat there, Snarl still accepting pettings from his daddy. Mix lightly burped, forcing Scrapper to chuckle.

“That. Was the BEST oil we’re ever gonna have.”

“You are not wrong there, bro. Makes me contemplate bailing the big guy out just to have him make some more.”

“Hey, I won’t tell if you won’t.”

They both snorted, nearly doubling over in laughter. Scrapper poked Snarl’s little nose.

“Hey, you little freeloader. Didn't get me a gift, for shame.”

Scrapper was playing, really he was. Snarl’s presence was enough of a gift. That was when Snarl nudged him, and when Scrapper turned to see what he wanted, his spark nearly stopped.

“Snarl love daddy. Glad daddy okay, and happy.”

Snarl rested his head fully onto his lap, getting comfortable. Scrapper blinked. Holy shit, holy SHIT Snarl just-

“Mix. Mix, did you hear that?!”

“Hear what?”

“Snarl! He TALKED!”

“Thought only Grimlock could do that?”

Mix leaned over to look at Snarl, who only leaned up, and licked at Mix’s face. Mix wiped his face, and chuckled.

“I mean, he’s sprayin’ it, but I don't hear him sayin’ it.”

“No I SWEAR! Snarl, say that again, say what you just said!”

Scrapper grabbed his cheeks, lightly squishing them. Snarl just leaned up and slobbered all over his face, actually making Mix laugh.

“Think you’ve had a little too much to drink, bro.”

Mix always did have a higher tolerance than his counterpart. He stood up, carefully getting Scrapper to his pedes.

“Hey, you guys keep havin’ fun, birthday boy here has had a LITTLE too much oil for tonight, he needs to head to bed.”

Arcee stopped mid step, giving them a small wave.

“Oh, have a good rest, dear! We’ll clean up in just a little while!”

Everyone else waved him off, and Mix carefully helped him up the hill. Scrapper was willing to walk, but he was definitely distracted, looking back at Snarl (who stayed behind, upon being offered a belly rub from Sari). They made it past the front door, and Scrapper motioned outside.

“I swear to GOD he said something, Mixie!”

“Uh huh. Whatever, you need to get some rest.”

“But I-”

“Look, if you get into bed, I’ll get you some nice, hot blankets, alright? I’ll make sure ya get comfy.”

Scrapper opened his mouth to complain, but he was full, a bit tipsy, and the idea of a warm blanket sounded like heaven. He huffed.

“Fine. but don't take too long, alright? Once I’m outta bed, I won't go back in.”

“Yeah yeah, I got it, you big baby.”

Scrapper gave an even bigger pout, and leaned down.

Nine hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred ninety-six. 

Mix stared at him once he parted, seeming surprised. This didn't last long however, given how his face scrunched up. Scrapper was about to apologize for making the first move, only for Mix to grab his chin, a bit more roughly than Scrapper was used to.

Nine hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred ninety-seven.

Mix huffed once they parted, knowing just how much steam was coming out of his own audials. Mix gestured to the steps.

“Get.”

Scrapper nodded obediently, nearly tripping as he bolted up the stairs. Mix grunted.

“Damn straight. Fucker thinking he can kiss me in my own damn house. Imma beat that ass.”

“You mean like, fucking?”

Mix turned to see Bumblebee, standing there with a damn judgemental look on his face. Mix shrugged him off, heading to the dryer and pulling out some extra blankets. Still warm. He started to fold them (they were shitty folds, but the effort is what counted, right?), more or less ignoring Bumblebee.

“I mean like, get the fuck outta my house.”

“Mix, come on.”

“No. You wanna be in here and chat shit, get out. I’m having a good time, don't wanna lose my shit at you.”

Bumblebee didn't say anything for a moment, which was a first. Mix didn't mean to be this cold, but Bumblebee had really pissed him off today. The jokes, the sarcasm, that was normal. What was insulting, was the fact that he didn't get them a gift (Scrapper more importantly). It wasn't anything huge, but it was enough for Mix to just not want to deal with it. Mix turned around, bundles in hand, only to suddenly stop. Bumblebee had his hands out, and he was holding something. He kept his gaze to the floor, clearly not wanting to look at him. His voice was hesitant, shy.

“I...already got Scrapper his gift earlier today. I didn’t wanna give you yours in front of everyone, because you know. Feelings and junk kinda suck. So...here.”

Mix looked at it hesitantly, as if expecting it to explode. With his free hand, he plucked what was apparently a piece of paper. He glanced at it, not really taking a good look.

“So you spent the money Optimus gave you, to just give me a piece of paper?”

“No, I uh...used it to buy Scrapper his gift. He was complaining about his paint a few weeks ago, so I got him that hot wax he wanted.”

Mix held doubt, but he didn’t take Bee as a liar, so he more or less decided he didn't care. He opened the piece of paper with his thumb. It was a handmade card, with the cover being coated in random doodles. It was stupid, and pointless. The inside however, really struck a chord with him. It was a shitty doodle of him, Bumblebee, and Scrapper. In writing that Mix could barely read, it said ‘To my big bro. I know I make fun of you a lot, but it's because I care about you a lot. P.s, you’re so fat, you have your own gravitational pull’. Mix looked down at Bumblebee, who still refused to look up from the floor. Mix nudged his helm, wanting his attention.

“You really meant this, didn’t you, twerp?”

“I...yeah.”

“Well hey, little bro, I appreciate it.”

Bumblebee snapped his helm up at him so fast, Mix was surprised his helm didn't come clean off. 

“You mean that?”

“Yeah. You’re a little shit, but everyone would miss you if anything happened to you, me especially.”

“This doesn't leave the room.”

“Absolutely.”

Mix wrapped his arm around Bumblebee’s shoulders, and Bumblebee tried to look uncomfortable, but he couldn't help but sink into Mix’s side. Bumblebee was a nuisance, but he cared about him, really cared about him, as if they actually were related.

“I got a question though, runt.”

“I dunno how you get around either, you fat AND dumb as hell.”

“One, fuck you. Two, if you spent all the dough on Scrapper, and you made this for me, how'd you get the new rims?”

“Oh I stole the hell outta these puppies.”

“I am literally SO proud of you.”

Mix gave him a little noogie (even made sure not to do it so hard), before giving him a light shove to the door.

“Alright, get outta here, punk. Don’t tell prime you jacked those, he's gonna think ya got the stealin’ thing from me.”

“I did though.”

“Right, but I’m not in the mood to hear him bitch.”

Bumblebee gave him a duel thumbs up as he walked backwards, right out the door. Mix walked up the stairs, ignoring Bumblebee’s screams as he no doubt, tripped and tumbled down the hill. God, he loved that kid to bits. He opened the door to their room, just in time to see Scrapper, hand covering his face, one knee propped up. Scrapper looked past his servos, and softly chuckled as he saw Mix.

“You can't fold worth a shit.”

“Hey, I made the effort.”

Mix unfolded one of them, and tossed it over Scrapper’s face. He chuckled, and sat up a bit, pulling it off just enough to see, but not too far, less he didn't feel the warmth.

“I’ll give you one thing, you’re getting better at washing. Fabric softener, I feel almost pampered.”

“Hey, I’m just that kinda guy. I got you like, five of ‘em, that enough?”

“Trick question, there's no such thing as enough warm blankets.”

Mix couldn't help but chuckle, tossing the rest of them at him. He patted the other on his chest, before making his way towards the door.

“You get some shut eye, imma help everyone clean.”

“Wait!”

Mix stopped, hand brushing up against the doorknob. He knew that whiny tone in his voice. He turned around, and sure enough, Scrapper was looking at him with those begging optics. He was laying on his stomach now, blankets coiled around him. Mix sighed, ready for the demand he couldn't refuse.

“What do you want, Scraps?”

“You.”

Woah. That was not a response he was expecting. He swore he felt a tingle run up his back, and tried to keep his spark calm.

“I...what?”

“I need a cuddle buddy, and you know Snarl isn't allowed upstairs, so it's gotta be you.”

Mix lightly shook his helm.

“I’m not cuddling you, Scrapper. It’s weird enough two dudes share a bed.”

“You could consider it my birthday gift. Afterall, you didn't get me anything.”

“If I do it, will ya stop the whining?”

Scrapper pouted, nodded, and held his arms out to him. Mix groaned, and walked up to the berth, stopping right in front of him.

“Few cycles, aight?”

“Few cycles, promise.”

Mix got into the berth, and Scrapper gave him his own blanket. Scrapper made it worse, forcing them to face each other. Scrapper had a smile brighter than the sun, and Mix couldn't really complain so much in front of it. Scrapper chuckled, starting to play with his bowtie.

“You look so cute in this little bowtie, we should buy you more.”

“I feel like a damn butler.”

“Does that mean you’d be open to getting you an actual suit?”

“Does that mean you’d be open to getting punched in the nads?”

“Aw, don't be like that!”

Scrapper chuckled. He straightened out his bowtie, and placed his forehead on the other’s. Mix couldn't help himself, and he held Scrapper’s hands in his own. God, those things were huge. Soft too, so unfair. He carefully thumbed over the other’s palm, and tried not to jump once the other spoke. Wouldn't be the first time he spaced out as he played with his hands. 

“You’re trying to keep me from playing with it more, aren't you?”

“It’s damn annoying, and you know it.”

“What’s annoying is that you’re being such a grumpy pants.”

“Test me, Scrapper, I swear to god.”

Scrapper chuckled, and Mix couldn't be mad at him for more than a few kliks. He knew Scrapper was going to keep pulling this shit, pushing all of his buttons, so he stopped it right on the spot. 

Nine hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred ninety-eight. Nine hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred ninety-nine. One million. 

The realization hit them like a ton of bricks. Their lips parted, and they took a moment to just stare at each other. Scrapper gave a snort, covering the lower half of his face.

"Well, I guess ya proved me wrong, Mixie. One million. You won."

"Damn straight I proved you wrong! You act like you got anythin' on me!"

He would've punched him in the nads, had Scrapper not asked him a question.

"So, you won. I gotta do what you say. So...what do you want?"

They both felt the hesitation between them. Scrapper was true to his word, the issue laid with Mix. Mix wanted to just say it, wanted to finally get it out of the way. Of course, this implied that Mix was even able to be so open. Despite the little voice in his helm telling him 'just say you wanna fuck god DAMMIT', the self conscious voice in him spoke louder, forcing Mix to say what he said.

"Aight, I know what I want. I want you to stop asking me to stop making those petroleum pancakes. It's annoying."

Scrapper's face fell, disappointment covering his features. He lightly pushed Mix away, and rolled onto his front, holding onto his pillow.

"Fine."

Mix sat there, arms supporting his weight as he looked at the mech under him. The little voice in him screamed to just leave, he made it weird enough. Thankfully, his libido came to save him (funny, it was usually the opposite), and he ignored that pesky voice. He laid onto Scrapper, lightly patting the side of his face.

"But, I know you're gonna be a grump about it, so how about I ask for something else?"

Scrapper's optics lit up in interest, but he clearly didn't want to jump to conclusions, so he kept his gaze averted.

"Like what?"

"I dunno,"

Mix didn't want to seem too eager, really he didn't, but he couldn't resist trailing a hand down Scrapper's side. God, the way he pushed into his grip, it was as if he was saying 'now'. And now was as good of a time as any. 

"Figured you'd just let me pick on you a little."

"Why do you always wanna be mean to me?"

There was a grin on that big, dumb face of his. Mix was going to give it to him. He cupped the other's cheeks in his hand, letting his other hand roam from his side, down to his legs.

"You want me to be nice, I can be pretty nice."

"Mix, you punched me in the nads like two hours ago for calling you cute."

"And YOU'RE killing the mood I'm settin' here. Seriously this is more effort than I should be putting to get some ass."

Scrapper snickered. The effort on the other's part was genuinely cute, that alone had Scrapper convinced. He shifted his head a little, and kissed the palm of his hand. He always did love those big hands of his.

"Sorry, sorry. You're right,"

Scrapper was usually very hesitant about this sort of thing, but Mix won the bet, fair and square. He was entitled to his reward.

"You're tryin', and that's nice of ya. Maybe you could stand to be just a little mean. Just a little."

"Almost sounds like you're asking me to be."

Scrapper didn't need to give a response at that, just the small grin on his lips was more than enough. He was met with no hesitation as he glided his hands between Scrapper's legs, and firmly palmed at his array. He tried not to laugh as Scrapper grabbed tightly at the pillow he was laying on. Mix let go of his face, and of course, Scrapper buried his face in the pillow. Cute really. Mix pushed himself off, purely to get a good look at the other's valve. He gave a small whistle. Gray folds, yellow biolights, with just the cutest blue node to top it off. Mix dipped one servo past the lips, and immediately saw how Scrapper tensed up, nearly choking the poor pillow.

"Jesus Scrapper, relax! You act like this is gonna be your first overload."

Scrapper pulled his face from his pillow, enough to reveal his mouth, but he said not a word. Mix blinked, giving Scrapper a 'you're shitting me' look.

"Wait. Scraps, have you NEVER touched yourself?"

"No? I mean we've only been online for like, five years, I didn't even know we COULD do that for the longest time. How often have YOU done it?"

"Uh...shit, how old is Ratchet? Because it's probably double that, if imma be honest."

"Jesus fucking christ, Mix."

"Hey, I don't chase pretty little rides just for fun, Scrapper."

Since Scrapper finally had his face out of the damn pillow, he took this opportunity to slowly rub one of his fingers in and out of his valve. Scrapper let out a bit of a surprised yelp, clearly not expecting it.

"M-Mix I-"

"Look. If it hurts or if you don't like it, tell me to stop. Otherwise, shut the fuck up, and let me do my thing. Been waiting way too goddamn long for this."

Scrapper looked up at him for a moment, before giving a nod. Maybe Mix was pushing it, but he couldn't resist pushing two servos past the wet folds, slowly and carefully. Scrapper's valve was doing what his own vocabulary couldn't, showing Mix just how much he enjoyed being touched. His valve, although a bit on the smaller side, kept leaking fluids onto his hand. Scrapper's voice came out, strained and practically weak.

"Mix? C-can I uh-"

"Yes you can keep ya damn face on the pillow if you need to, just don't choke on the damn thing."

Scrapper loved that about Mix. As grumpy as he was, as much as he complained about almost everything; he cared about him. Cared enough to be gentle, cared enough to be accommodating for him. In all honesty, nothing was hotter than compassion. Scrapper let out a bit of a soft whine as Mix introduced another servo, starting to stretch the poor valve. 

"Mix? O-one more thing."

"What?"

"Can...you skip this part, please?"

"How ya mean?"

Mix had a knowing grin on his face. He knew what he was talking about, he just wanted Scrapper to say it. He was so lucky he loved him.

"I...god, you’re really gonna make me say it?"

"How am I gonna know what you want?"

"Fucks sake,"

Scrapper swallowed, forced himself to look Mix in his optics, and in a look that'd sweep a mech off his feet, finally came out with it.

"Mixie. I need your spike. Please."

Mix wanted to come up with a sarcastic comeback, but Scrapper looked so wanting, so absolutely needy, all he could do was nod. He pulled his stained servos out of his valve, and popped his own spike panel open. Mix wasn't exactly a monster, but he was thick enough to be worried of being Scrapper's first. With one hand, he steadied Scrapper by holding onto his hip, and with his other hand, he held onto his spike. He carefully rubbed it against his valve, and fought the need to just fuck his brains out. He had to do this carefully. Not JUST because he'd lose chances of getting laid again, but because Scrapper genuinely deserved to enjoy his first time.

"Remember, if you ain't liking anythin' I'm doin', tell me, alright?"

Scrapper gave a nod as he kept his face in his pillow, bracing himself. Mix carefully guided his head in, pushing it past the folds. They both had to take a minute to absorb the new feeling, before Mix couldn't help himself. He leaned himself fully onto Scrapper, and started to roll his hips against the other’s, shoving his spike in and out of the new valve. Despite the pillow covering most of his face, Mix could tell Scrapper was a sight for sore eyes. He was whimpering, grunting alongside his thrusts, and was genuinely just a puddle. Thankfully Mix's hips moved on their own, else he'd be just the same mess. Scrapper's valve felt so tight, so wet, Mix never wanted to leave it.

"Scraps?"

Scrapper let one optic peek from the pillow, highlighting just how weak he was.

"W-what?"

"You doin' okay? You want me to stop?"

Both HATED the notion of stopping, but apparently Scrapper hated it more, given the fact that he lifted his helm up, and literally barked his protest.

"NO!"

Mix didn't stop fully, but he did slow down considerably. Took a lot to make Scrapper bark like that, and he was clearly ashamed, averting his optics.

"I-I don't want you to stop. I REALLY don't want you to stop. I like this. I like being this close to you, I like-"

"Me?"

"So much, Mixie."

Mix chuckled, and took a second to peck at the other's lips. He took just a second for Scrapper to compose himself, before continuing the same pace he was before. He wasn't going bat shit, but he was thrusting just a little bit harder than most would for a first timer. Not his fault, Scrapper looking as good as he was right now. Mix was running out of breath, due to his body desperately trying to cool himself down. Scrapper’s body definitely wasn't helping; pouring out exhaust, not to mention the fact that he was pushing against him, clearly wanting even more of him. Scrapper maybe a virgin, but his body was needy as all hell, and Mix was living for it.

"You are SUCH a pillow princess, Scraps."

Scrapper whimpered loudly, and Mix felt the other twitch around him. Wait a minute. Wait a goddamn minute.

"Holy SHIT, Scrapper. Do you LIKE that?"

"S-shut up."

"No no, wait, you like that. Come on, Princess."

Another twitch, another whine. Scrapper was kinky for a little virgin. It was a discovery that made Mix's hips buck faster against him, and made his spike throb inside of him. He wiped drool from his mouth, only to speak again.

"Aw, are you embarrassed, Princess?"

Mix didn't care how kind of weird this kink was (weird in general, not compared to his. Mix was into some SHIT), because the reaction was to die for. Scrapper would squeal into his pillow, his whole body would squirm, and his valve got all nice and tight around him. How could he NOT abuse it?

"Come on Princess, don't give me the cold shoulder."

Scrapper's grip was so tight around that damn pillow, Mix was surprised it was intact. This may have been their first time, but Mix knew damn well Scrapper was close. Mix wasn't the sex god he deemed himself to be, but he knew just what would finish him off. He knew that holding him down like this, stretching that little valve just how he wanted, was going to be the end of him. Scrapper couldn't ever get enough of Mix, and this only proved it further. Hell, if Mix was just a little meaner, he’d have the other turned to his back, just so he could see and hear just how badly he wanted this. How badly he needed Mix to just absolutely fuck him. Mix however, wasn't all that nice. He went right to his audial, gave a few hard thrusts, and just finished him.

"You gonna cum for me, huh Princess?"

And cum he did. Scrapper practically screamed into his pillow, and overloaded, practically flooding the sheets below with fluids. Mix contemplated overloading inside, but ultimately decided that Scrapper looked better wearing his overload. He pulled himself out, and with two strokes (and a rather loud cry), overloaded right on top of his back. He wasn't ashamed of his mess, let alone how much it was. They both sat there, bodies being sticky, hot, and incredibly tender. Mix looked up after a moment, before snorting.

"Scrapper. Scrapper oh my god."

"W-what?"

He lifted his face up to look at Mix, before looking at his hands. All across this bed, were feathers. Apparently Scrapper didn't know his own strength, and literally busted open his pillow. Scrapper groaned, covering his poor face in one hand.

"Oh my god-"

"Come on, that's kinda funny."

"I hate you. Look at the mess you made!"

"I made?! YOU were the one gettin’ fucked! Most of what I did was your back!”

Scrapper opened his mouth to say something (probably thinking about yelling at Mix for whatever messed he caused, if he had to guess), but settled for scowling and averting his gaze. Mix chuckled, and crawled up to him, pecking the side of his face.

"Come on, don't be so grumpy. You just got your V-card stamped! Should be doin' jumping jacks or some shit."

But yet, he continued to pout. Mix sighed, before wrapping an arm around him.

"Would you knock it off? Where's my happy Scrappy?"

He knew that'd do the trick. Scrapper's pout lighted, and he placed his helm on the other's shoulder. He felt gross, sitting in his mess, but he desperately needed a hug from Mix.

"Mix? Do you...really want me to be a happy Scrappy?"

"Course, you're my bro, you deserve to be happy. I mean I dunno what’d make you happier, ya just got pounded, but I can tell this is goin’ somewhere.”

"Then look at me and say you love me."

Mix opened his mouth to protest, before Scrapper cut him off.

"And MEAN it."

Mix gave a groan, before ultimately caving in. He can't tell a face like that no.

"Aight, aight. There's no way to get outta this."

He took a deep breath, before sighing.

"Scraps. Listen, because fuck knows I don't wanna say this, but it's for you. So...Scraps. I love you. I honest to god I love you. Now, can you stop poutin' like that?"

Scrapper looked up at him with the biggest set of puppy dog eyes, Mix groaned, already knowing what was coming.

"Never mind, keep the pout-"

"I LOVE YOU TOO!!"

Scrapper wrapped his arms around him, and smooched the side of his face. Mix was thinking of punching his nads, before deciding to just roll with it. Scrapper deserved to have his moments. There was a moment of silence between them, before Mix raised a brow at him.

"Scrapper?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you...mean it?"

Scrapper's grin was as huge as it could be, and he lifted himself up to smooch at his ear muffs.

"Course I do, Mixie. I love you just as much as you love me."

Scrapper deserved to be happy, but he neglected one fact.

He deserved it just as much. They both thought the other deserved the world. For now though, Mix was sated with giving him the next best thing. Gripping the other’s aft and making him yelp, Mix wore a smirk that spoke volumes.

“You wanna go again? Bet I can make you louder than before.”

Scrapper was never one to turn down a bet.

\-----------------

"What do you think they're doing up there?"

Bumblebee raised a brow, looking up at the house. Optimus sighed as he folded back up the table.

"Whatever makes them happy, Bumblebee. Doesn't matter. What matters is that you get off your bumper and help us."

Bumblebee motioned to Grimlock, who was still nibbling on treats.

"We have a T-REX here, why does HE get to get away with doing nothing?!"

"Because I didn't ASK Grimlock, I asked YOU. Now clean up the wrapping paper like I asked, please."

Bumblebee groaned as he did as he was told. Optimus sighed, and turned to Bulkhead. Optimus had given himself a few hours to relax, but now, he was back on full throttle professionalism.

"Bulkhead, you did say you arrested the seekers, right? Sent them to Sentinel like I ordered?"

"Yep!"

Bulkhead crushed the empty barrels flat, to make them easier for disposal.

"I got all of 'em. Though Bumblebee had to help with Slipstream."

Optimus raised a brow.

"Why, was she difficult?"

"Well...no...she was just uh...uhm…"

Bumblebee interrupted as he cleaned up the paper.

"She offered to blow Bulkhead if he let her go. Fucking straights are WEAK."

"One, I'm pan. Two, I'm sorry I'm NOT good with fems! But, yeah, we got the seekers. Shame about Dirt boss though."

Optimus put his hands on his hips, looking at the two mechs.

"What ABOUT Dirt boss?"

Bulkhead blinked, and looked at Bumblebee. Bumblebee gave an uncomfortable laugh, trying to dip out of the situation.

"Oh look, wrapping paper! Let me-"

Bulkhead plucked Bumblebee off his pedes, putting him in the middle. He folded his arms across his chest, glaring.

"I THOUGHT you were gonna tell him."

"I was! Then I just got kinda wrapped up in the party and uh...yeah. I forgot."

Optimus rubbed his helm, before sighing. 

"Okay, ignoring how much anxiety you just pumped into me, tell me NOW what happened."

Bulkhead hesitated, before he went on.

"We couldn't find him."

"What?"

"Yeah, we combed through ALL the rubble. Couldn't find him at all. Dunno what happened to him. Just found these seekers, and that one clone, totally out of commission."

Optimus took a moment to breathe, before groaning.

"Okay, we'll just keep an optic open for now and-"

"Truck bot!"

Optimus looked up at Grimlock, who had a piece of wrapping paper in his hand.

"Grimlock help pick up paper for truck bot."

"Oh. Thank you, Grimlock. Even though it was Bumblebee’s job, your help is-"

Grimlock interrupted him, burping loudly right into his face. It was a monster of a burp, one that gained a thumbs up from Bumblebee. 

"Holy SLAG Grimlock! Good one!"

Grimlock lightly sighed.

"Grimlock feel better now. Grimlock eat too much yummy things."

"And Grimlock makes too much drool. Arcee?"

"Coming Prime!"

Arcee, ever helpful, walked over and wiped his face with a napkin. She raised a brow as she looked into the napkin, picking up a small, red object.

"What is?..."

Bulkhead picked it up from her hand, before his jaw dropped.

"It's...Dirt boss's drill."

They all looked at Grimlock, who was still busy picking at his fangs. Bumblebee was the first to state the obvious. 

"Grimlock...ATE Dirt boss."

They all blinked, before Prowl called for help in putting the tables away. It was best to ignore it. Afterall, why ruin a storybook ending?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was really fun to work on, you guys! my FIRST completed, multi chapter fic! thank you so much for reading, commenting, and loving! for those long time fans of mine, "Along came a Bee" is next on the agenda! till then, I hope you enjoyed some totally hetero dudes!
> 
> references I used for everyone's outfits!:
> 
> https://needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves.tumblr.com/post/619251291227652096/fashion-runways-bibian-blue-butterflies (Sari;3rd one/ Prowl; 6th one/ Arcee; 4th one)
> 
> https://www.knottytie.com/products/faux-knit-bow-tie-customized-13 (Scrapper’s bowtie)
> 
> https://www.knottytie.com/products/quilted-plaid-bow-tie-customized-34 (Mix’s bowtie)
> 
> https://www.knottytie.com/products/mod-triangles-bow-tie-customized-14 (Bumblebee's bowtie)
> 
> https://www.knottytie.com/products/big-polka-dots-bow-tie-customized-21 (Bulkhead's bowtie)
> 
> https://www.knottytie.com/products/pin-stripe-bow-tie-customized-14 (Ratchet's bowtie)
> 
> https://www.knottytie.com/products/hamling-bow-tie-customized-17 (Optimus's bowtie)
> 
> https://www.knottytie.com/products/aurora-dots-bow-tie-customized-127 (Snarl's bowtie))


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